Title: Yesterday's Today, Today's Tomorrow

Authors: Malysa (MelMarie612@aol.com), Audrey (scullyskid83@juno.com), Pat
(SSbpMN@aol.com ), and Rising Sun (jagrslc@yahoo.com)

FF of Malysa is archived at http://stories.com/authors/malysa
FF of Audrey is archived at http://www.angelfire.com/art/StardustsArt
FF of Pat is archived at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/AnniePatJAGstories
FF of Rising Sun is archived at: http://www.geocities.com/jagrslc

Rating: Nothing stronger than PG-13 (we promise)

Summery: After Lt. Harmon Rabb, Jr's ramp strike, his best friend since childhood, Capt. Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie, remembers their past at his hospital bedside among other places.

Classification: AU, Angst, Friendship &r Romance, H/M flashbacks

Spoilers: Anything having to do with Harm's vision problems, first crash, & family situation, and Mac's family & past.

Disclaimer: JAG characters portrayed belong to JAG, CBS and Paramount Television. No copyright infringement intended. All other characters depicted are purely fictional and any similarities to actual people are purely coincidental.

Authors' Notes: Will be included before and/or after each part

Feedback: Yes please!

Feedback: View some at http://fanfiction.net/reviews.php?storyid=705509

Archive: Ask one of us.

Story Written February to April 2002


Yesterday's Today, Today's Tomorrow
Part One by Malysa MelMarie612@aol.com

Rating: PG, I use some bad words (Not really bad, my grandmother will read this!)

***AN: I have no idea exactly what year Harm's first crash was. I'm just using educated guessing with math skills that I truly hate to admit that I possess. If you know the year, PLEASE e-mail me because this could drive me slowly insane. I think that's all. Enjoy!***

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12 MARCH 1991
1845 LOCAL
BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL
BETHESDA, MD

Captain Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie sat at her best friends bedside trying her best to will his eyes to open. She knew her attempt was of no value. Lieutenant Harmon "Harm" Rabb, Jr was the world's most stubborn person and would wake up when he was damn sure and ready. Maybe this rest period was for the best because when he woke up he was going to ask about his RIO.

Mac sure as hell didn't want to be the one to have to tell him that the ramp strike had killed the man her best friend had considered a friend. She knew he would feel guilty. Maybe he should. A RIO's life was his pilot's responsibility. She would never tell Harm that, of course. Tact was something she had and used religiously.

Looking down at her long time friend's battered face, Mac could almost imagine his features in an expression of complete and utter defeat, as they would be when he is told of the repercussions of this crash.

The loss of his RIO and friend due to his inability to see the carrier clearly.

The loss of his wings due to his mistake.

The loss of his navy career in his eyes due to him being unable to fly.

Mac realized what this would do to him. She had been with him for years.

Flying in the navy had been his dream since the day she met him. She remembered that day with absolute clarity. She hoped that he did, too. She hoped that memories such as that one would be enough to bring him back to her. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a wrinkled paper airplane. It was obviously old and of great value to the Marine Corps officer. She positioned it on Harm's pillow and kissed his forehead gently.

With that, she walked slowly out of the room holding her tears at bay.

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Part Two by: Audrey <ScullysKid83@juno.com>

Rating: PG (one bad word...and it's really not even that bad)
Note: *** indicate the beginning/end of a flashback***

==========================================


SUMMER 1972
ARIZONA

He carefully creased the paper, making sure the edge was sharp and even. On the ground next to him, the ends of pieces of white paper fluttered in the breeze, unable to fly off thanks to the rock holding them down. The tip of his tongue stuck out the corner of his mouth, revealing the amount of concentration that was being put into the project. Finally, after minutes of careful folding and
creasing, the eight-year old boy held up his finished work in front of him.

The paper airplane didn't look to be any extraordinary thing to the common observer. A piece of white paper folded into a simple toy. But to the boy the plane carried with it his hopes, his dreams. This plane would reach his dad. This plane would be the one.

He stood up, precious paper toy clutched gently and safely in his right hand. The breeze flirted with him, ruffling his hair and tugging ever so gently at his sleeves. Perfect. Too strong a breeze and the plane would be forced down. Too weak a breeze and his plane wouldn't go far. This breeze was perfect.

For a moment, he closed his eyes, picturing himself inside his homemade plane. Everything was ready. He was good to go. "I'll find you, Dad," he thought, and then he tossed his plane with the wind, opening his eyes to watch it fly. He grinned, watching the toy float higher, higher...

...until it sank beyond the wall separating his yard from the next. Hopeful grin quickly melted into a disappointed frown. His mother’s call for dinner stopped him from going to retrieve the plane. He'd have to wait until after dinner to rescue it. After all, he couldn't just leave it. It was the perfect plane. It had a mission to fly.

With a sigh, he ran into the house to quickly wolf down his supper. More than once he had to be reminded of table manners, but none of that really mattered to him. He needed to get his plane back before dark. He rinsed off his dinner plate, promising his mother to do the dishes before bed, and raced out into the yard. A woodpile near the wall provided a stepping stool to the top of the
wall. Peeking into the neighbors yard, he spotted his plane… in the hands of a little girl.

"Hey!"

She looked up at his shout, the paper plane clutched in her four-year old hands. Dark eyes studied him warily; she'd seen him before, but never spoken to him.

He was impatient. And she was crushing his prized plane. "That's my plane." He pointed out.

"I'm not 'sposed to talk to strangers." Came her curt reply.

He was slightly taken aback, but he only skipped a beat before replying. "I'm Harm. Who're you?"

"Sarah."

"Nice to meetcha. There, we're not strangers anymore." Harm's gaze shifted to his paper plane, still clutched firmly in Sarah's grasp. "Can I have my plane back now?"

Sarah's brown eyes drifted from Harm, to the plane, and then back to Harm. "It landed in my yard."

Harm sighed. "So? It's mine. I made it."

"Make another." Sarah retorted, wandering closer to the wall to peer up at him. "You did a really good job on this one, you could probably do it again."

Harm glanced back to the paper still pinned to the ground by the rock. He /could/ make another plane but it would take time. He blinked and suddenly became aware of the quickly fading light. "No. Let me have it."

"No."

Harm glared down at her before shifting his gaze to the horizon. Damn it! He didn't have time for this. He jumped down from the wall, stalking over to his paper pile.

"'Make another.'" He mimicked the girl, fuming as he began to fold another plane. "She doesn't know how perfect that plane is! She doesn't know anything! Stupid girls."

Harm worked in silence, so angry at first that he had to restart his folding three times. He was beginning to make a mental list of things he wanted to tell Sarah - mean things - when he heard a shout come from

Her house.

"Sarah! Get OVER here!"

He heard a door slam and angry shouting from inside her house, although it was muffled and he couldn't understand what was being said. Curious, he climbed the woodpile again, peering over the wall.

Sarah sat below him, the paper plane clutched to her, silent tears flowing down her cheeks.

"Sarah?" Harm was suddenly scared for the girl. "Are you ok?"

His voice startled her and she jumped in surprise, then turned her tear-stained face his way. "Yeah." She replied softly. "I'm ok."

Harm nodded, not sure if she spoke the truth or not but willing to go along with what she said anyway. "Hey, you can keep the plane, ok?" It seemed only nice to offer, and she really seemed to like it. He could always make another one. A better one. When she smiled at him in return, he went on. "Do you know how to make paper airplanes?"

She shook her head, looking at the one she held in her hands.

"Well," Harm said, glancing over his shoulder at his house before looking back at her. "Maybe you can come over tomorrow and I can show you how. And my mom makes really good chocolate chip cookies, so maybe she'd make some for us."

Sarah's face lit up at the prospect, the tears no longer falling down her cheeks. "Really?" At his affirmative nod, she smiled. "Ok. Thanks."

Harm shrugged. "No problem." He returned the smile, glancing over his shoulder as his mother called him in. "I gotta go. See you tomorrow, Sarah."

"Bye, Harm!" The girl returned. "And thanks for the plane!" She watched as his slipped behind the wall, and then looked back down at the plane in her hands. Her fingers lightly caressed the paper, the folds. It was only a paper plane, but she felt like she had been given the world. Smiling, she practically skipped back into her house. Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

==========================================

Part Three by Pat ssbpmn@aol.com

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12 MARCH 1991
BETHESDA NAVAL
2345 LOCAL

"Captain Mackenzie you really should get some rest," the nurse told her softly, seeing her holding fast to Harm's hand, staring at his tightly closed eyes. "Better rest than you're going to get here in that hard chair."

"His doctor said I didn't have to leave," Mac yelped defensively. "He said I could stay."

"Yes of course I know that. It's written on the chart. But I'm seeing a woman who's been sitting here for twenty-four hours now."

"Why doesn't he wake up?" Mac wailed softly, irritably brushing away a tear she did not want.

"You know what, sometimes the body suffers an assault, both mental and physical, and simply shuts down for a while," Angela said quietly, watching her patient's monitors as she spoke. "I read the account of what happened. He had to have been terrified seeing the crash about to happen before his eyes, and then the pain of his burns. Does he know about his RIO I think it's called --the other guy?"

"He was demanding to know, and they told him, right before he passed out," she nodded. "So yeah I guess I can see that. But I know I want him to wake up and tell me he's OK."

"You care a lot for this guy huh?"

"Yes ma'am. We pretty much grew up together. Been apart some but never really you know."

"I think I do. Come on. There's some hot food in the lounge and a shower and some clean hospital sweats you can slip on, and then I'm going to order a cot moved in here since I know you're not going to leave." Angela put a firm, motherly hand on her shoulder. "Hey you don't want him waking up and finding you half sick from exhaustion and stress. That's only going to upset him."

"Put like that," Mac sighed. "OK but I'm not going far."

A few minutes later she was standing under a torrent of hot water and only then did she give in to the tears her body was desperate to shed. Her eyes closed tightly and she sobbed until she could cry no more, and she sank down on the hard tile floor, exhausted and scared, and her mind returned to another time when she experienced those same emotions, except then, Harm was there at her side.

==========================================

Part Four by Malysa MelMarie612@aol.com

Rating: PG (They’re just kids!)
==========================================


5 DECEMBER 1974
1200 LOCAL
GRAND CANYON ELEMENTARY SCHOOL
ARIZONA

Harm sat at the lunch table he and Sarah had shared for the past two years waiting for her to show up. It wasn’t like her to be late for anything, and her showing up ten minutes after the lunch period had started would make it two times in one day. She had called his house early that morning to tell him that her mom had forgotten to wake her up, and that he should walk to school without her. He had walked her to school everyday since the first school day after they met. Of course all the eleven-year-old boys made fun of him for hanging out with a seven year old GIRL, but he didn’t care. She was his friend, not really a girl, because if she was, she could be his girlfriend, and he never wanted to have one of those.

"Sorry I’m late, Harm," his tiny friend said as she dropped her lunchbox on the table and plopped down in the chair next to him. She tried her best to act normal, so he wouldn’t ask any questions. She may be only seven, but she knew Harm. He would be angry at her if he knew she didn’t come straight to him when she had a problem.

"You were crying!" he accused looking at her red-rimmed eyes. He wasn’t sure what scared him more: the fact that she had cried or that she was trying to hide it from him. Sarah might be kind of a girl (but not really), but she was tough and never cried. And if she ever did cry, she would come to him, and he would try his best to make it better. It’s what he was supposed to do. He was going to grow up to be an officer and a gentleman just like his dad.

"Was not," she lied horribly.

"Were, too."

"Was not."

Were, too!"

"Was not, and even if I was, it’s none of your beeswax Harmon Rabb!" Sarah yelled at him before standing up and walking swiftly out of the cafeteria.

Surprised at her sudden outburst, Harm took a few seconds before standing up to follow her. He ignored the giggles of the girls sitting at one table and the taunting from the boys at another. He sped up past the aid that tried to stop him with only one thing on his mind--getting to Sarah. He found her outside in the chilly front courtyard of their school. And she was crying.

Harm walked up to her slowly, whispering her name. She only sniffled and told him to go away. He would have none of it.

"Sarah, please look at me," he whispered, and with a caring maturity probably beyond his years, he unzipped the sweatshirt-jacket his mother had made him put on before he left the house, took it off, and put it on her shoulders.

"Thanks," she mumbled wrapping it around herself tightly. She looked up to see him shuffling his feet in front of her. She wiped her tears from she face and tried to smile at him. "Lunch is over."

"What happened?" He was obviously ignoring her attempts to avoid the topic.

"My mom fell down and hurt herself. She’s in the hospital," she told him looking down so he wouldn’t see she was lying.

"Will she be okay?"

"She should be. Can I stay at your house tonight? We don’t have school tomorrow."

"Yeah. Sure. You can keep the jacket, too, `cause I really don’t like it anyway."

"Thank you, Harm," she reached out for his hand, and he pulled her up. She wrapped her small arms around his neck, standing on her tiptoes to hug him tight.

Harm and Sarah walked back into the building together. She with a renewed feeling of hope knowing that he would not abandon her if she needed him, and he with a whole new view of his best friend. In Harm’s new view, Sarah was a girl. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

==========================================

Part Five by: Audrey ScullysKid83@juno.com

Rating: G

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13 MARCH 1991
BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL
0115 LOCAL

Following Angela's motherly advice, Mac found herself sitting at a table in the lounge, the hard backed chairs reminiscent of the ones from her elementary school years. She sighed, cradling a cup of luke-warm coffee in her hands.

At a nearby table, a young father sat down to a breakfast of cheese Danish with his equally young daughter, drawing Mac's gaze up from her beverage.

"Eat, Sylvie." The father commanded gently.

"I want mommy." Sylvie pouted.

The father licked his lips lightly, obviously trying to come up with the right words, and then spoke. "Mommy's sleeping right now. The accident made her hurt, so she's sleeping the hurt away."

"Kiss it?" The young girl asked, craning her neck upwards to catch her father's eye. "Make better?"

Mac thought she saw a glint of tears in the man's eyes as he gently stroked through the child's blond curls and felt a lump form in her own throat.

"I wish it was that easy, Sylvie." The man replied, pulling his daughter close.

Mac returned her gaze to her coffee, the remaining warmth seeping through the Styrofoam cup and into her hands. If only it /were/ that easy. She sighed, standing and pushing her chair in before turning to head out of the lounge. She passed by the father and daughter, who were clinging to each other as if they might lose each other if they let go. Tossing her cup into a trashcan, Mac headed for the elevator.

Why? The question kept floating through her mind. Why did it have to happen to Harm? He was such a great pilot. She sighed and pressed the correct buttons, telling the elevator to take her to Harm's floor. A soft 'ping' sounded and the doors opened, allowing Mac to exit the lift and once again pick up her vigil at her friends bedside.

Like Angela had promised, a cot was set up next to Harm's bed, complete with a small pillow and a blue blanket. First, she approached Harm. He was still out, his breath coming in slow, even breaths. She brushed her fingers softly through his dark hair, and then planted a soft kiss on his brow before settling herself onto her cot.

Her thoughts began to drift as her eyelids became heavy. From the beginning, she'd known that Harm liked planes. She hadn't known why for a few years. He liked them, and that was all that really mattered. His Dad flew them, she had known that too. But it hadn't been until she was about 8 that he had finally come out and told her about...everything. And the day that he had told her he was such a wreck. Before, she had always been the one with troubles. But that day she learned that she was not the only one with her share of grief.

==========================================

Part Six by Pat ssbpmn@aol.com

==========================================

1975

GRAND CANYON ELEMENTARY SCHOOL

ARIZONA

"Harm you want to come over and play Sorry?" Sarah panted, having run to catch up with him as he was leaving school.

The dark haired boy shook his head. "No."

"Why not Harm? In fact what's wrong with you anyway, you haven't wanted to do anything with me for a couple of days. What's wrong?"

"I just don't feel like it," he told her.

"But why," she persisted, grabbing his arm. "Why Harm? What did I do?"

"You didn't do anything," he growled, pulling his arm away. "I just don't feel like playing games and all that."

"You're mad at me for something. You have to be. You just don't want me around you any more. OK that's OK with me. I hate you too." With all the logic of an eight year old, she burst into tears and took off running from him.

"Nice Rabb real nice," he muttered, kicking a rock. "You made her cry. Real nice." He took a long breath and hollered after her to wait but she did not stop, running headlong across the windswept field behind the school. With no other choice he took out after her, finally catching her, her short legs no match for his long strides.

"Just go away," she yelped and he held her fast.

"No I won't and you're not going to shut me out. OK you wanted to know.

So now I'll tell you. My dad is never coming back. My mom told me a couple days ago. He's not ever coming back. No matter how much I hope and pray, he's not ever. She's decided he's dead. She said he's dead and she's going to sign some stupid paper like that. And I hate her for that. He is coming back Sarah. Somehow. And if he doesn't just as soon as I'm old enough I'm going to look for him." His green eyes narrowed into slits as he made that vow to himself while he said the words. "I'm going to look for him."

"Where is he?" she asked in a very small voice.

"Vietnam," he spat back. "He took off from the Ticonderoga one night and didn't come back. He's a POW and they haven't let him go. MIA my ass."

Her eyes never left him as he spoke and though she wasn't totally sure what he was saying she knew it was the source of his misery.

"He's not dead, he's not dead," he murmured and suddenly to her enormous surprise he collapsed to his knees crying for all he was worth.

"Don't cry Harm please," she whispered, awkwardly trying to hug him, held back by her small size. "Don't cry Harmy. I love you."

Her awkward tenderness made him cry all the more and he pulled her thin body to him. "I love you too Sarah."

+ + +

Remembering that she had said those words all those years ago brought tears to Mac's eyes and she stroked Harm's forehead, wondering if she would ever get the chance to repeat them to him.

==========================================

Part Seven by Rising Sun (jagrslc@yahoo.com)

Rated: G

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MARCH 14, 1991

1111 LOCAL

BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL

BETHESDA, MD

Mac continued to stroke the forehead of her brother. She paused; yes he was the brother she never had. They were both only children but a piece of paper had brought them together. She’d always bless that paper airplane for bringing her this man.

She leaned over him and whispered, "I love you Harm … come back to me. I can’t live without you."

She stood and contemplated what she has just said. Someone not knowing the relationship might have mistaken that statement for that of a lover and not a sister.

Mac looked at Harm. He looked so fragile just lying there. Why didn’t he wake up? Didn’t he know she was here waiting? That life was waiting to be grabbed and lived? She continued her visual survey of him. As children they had been playmates and in many ways he was her knight in shining armour, but she’d never looked at him. Really looked at him.

She looked now.

Starting with his face and slowly moving down … she registered the strength in his face. He was handsome. It came almost as a shock, but he was good looking. He was fit. Life in the military did that for you. It gave good muscular tone. He was tan. That came from the life at sea. He was tall. That she knew… but examining him now it became part of the database. She decided that all in all he was well put together. She could see why the females flocked to him. Her gaze returned to his face.

She stared long and hard at him as if committing every contour to memory for later reference. Then it happened. Her heart stirred. She loved him of that there was no doubt, but it had always been as a brother, friend was too mild a description for what they had. Somehow somewhere in the cycle of their lives and in the drama of the last few days the tone of the love had changed.

The impact of the revelation was almost physical. She gasped.

The Marine instinctively looked round to see if she was being watched. She felt exposed and needed time to compose herself and to hide what she felt. She was not about to let it become known by any one including Harm that her feelings had taken such a U-turn.

+ + +

"I love you Harm … come back to me. I can’t live without you."

Somewhere in the deep recesses of Harm’s psyche he heard a voice. Who was it? Why were they calling? He focused on the voice. Something was not right.

But it felt nice and cozy here. "I think I’ll stay here some more." He decided. Whoever it was could wait.

==========================================

Part Eight by Rising Sun (jagrslc@yahoo.com)

Rated: G

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2355 LOCAL

CHRISTMAS EVE 1975

CATHEDRAL OF THE IMMACULATE CONCEPTION

Harm could not believe the talking, promising and eventual begging his mother had had to do to get permission for Mac to go to church with them. At some point during the year Sarah had gone from Sarah to Mac. It had happened soon after her uncle Matt had visited.

During Matt’s stay life next door had got calm. "Domestic" is how his mother had described it. Not long after Matt’s leaving the war had resumed. Harm was eleven and not stupid. He was scared for Sar… Mac. He kept a hawk eye out for her safety even more.

Now they were in church together singing with gusto. He was sure that God was torn between blocking his ears to keep his voice out while wanting to listen to Sa… Mac. He’d remember eventually. This new name took getting used to. Maybe Mac (there he got it) would help him tune up his voice. He knew he could do better.

The priest was giving folks a chance to say their own prayer. He heard Mac whispering:

Dear God:

It’s me Mac… er Sarah. (Harm smiled at the correction) Please let Harm’s daddy come home safe and alive. You can have my daddy if you need one. I promise I don’t mind. Truly.

Thank you.

Mac.

Harm was dumbfounded. His heart swelled with a myriad of emotions. Hurt at the loss of his father, love for Mac and fear for what had made a eight year old be willing to give up her own father.

He vowed he’d always be there for this girl who had claimed his heart.

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Part Nine by Rising Sun (jagrslc@yahoo.com)

Rated: G

==========================================

MARCH 14, 1991

1455 LOCAL

BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL

BETHESDA, MD

Without warning the door swung open and two men walked in: one black and one white. They were Lieutenants Sturgis Turner and Jack Keeter respectively.

"Mac." Sturgis said softly.

No words were needed. She knew the two from Harm’s days at Annapolis. They were good people. She walked over to Turner and fell into his open arms. Keeter touched her on the shoulder and then moved to Harm’s side.

"What do the quacks say?" Keeter asked.

Still holding on to Sturgis she replied, "They don’t know. It’s been two days fourteen hours and thirty six minutes."

Turner smiled "I see that clock of yours is still ticking."

For the first time in days she smiled. "I can’t help it."

"Hey it’s like breathing. Don’t fight it." Keeter advised.

"When did you all get in?" Mac asked. "I thought you were on assignment."

"We are." Sturgis replied. "But we begged our respective CO’s for time."

"You think that Rabbit would be in this state and we’d stay away?" Keeter informed her.

"What about you?" Sturgis asked.

"What about me."

"I know you Mac." Sturgis warned, "You haven’t budged from this bed. Continue like this and you’ll either collapse or be declared AWOL."

"If they haven’t declared it already." Keeter interjected.

"THEY HAVE NOT!" she defended herself. "It’s the weekend I am due at work tomorrow - Monday"

The men looked at her.

"What?" she snapped.

"You’re not going to work are you." Sturgis accused.

She remained silent.

"Maaac" He drawled.

"At least go talk to your CO and get time off." Keeter recommended.

She hesitated "I don’t want him to wake up and be alone."

"Without you there." Keeter teased.

She made a face at him.

"Look we’ll be here." Sturgis promised, "I promise."

She conceded reluctantly. "OK but just long enough to speak with my CO."

The men nodded "Deal." Keeter said.

==========================================

Part Ten by Rising Sun (jagrslc@yahoo.com)

Rated: G

==========================================

JULY 4, 1976

INDEPENDENCE DAY IN THE PARK

It was a fine day for a holiday and a good day to be young. That was the conclusion of Harmon Rabb Jr. What made it a great day though was that Mac was with him.

He was thirteen years old and beginning to appreciate the female of the specie, not enough to dip a toe in the pool, but just enough to watch and to enjoy being watched. In his surveying his eye fell on Mac. She was nine years old to his thirteen but he could see that she was pretty. He wasn’t about to tell her that… but she was and she would turn heads soon.

That being the case big brother Rabb would always be employed.

He watched her as she drank her coke. She didn’t look right so he walked up to her. His suspicion was confirmed as she quickly but the drink aside.

"Hey Mac." He said.

She nodded.

"What you up to?" He was trying to keep in light.

"What makes you think I’m up to something?" she defended.

The scent hit him. He looked round quickly and then reached for her drink. She wasn’t expecting the move and before she knew it he had it in his hand. He sniffed.

"Mac you’re drinking alcohol!" he accused.

"Leave me alone." She didn’t deny it.

"Oh Mac." He cried "Why? How’d you get it? You’re only nine!"

"Don’t preach at me Rabb." She replied.

"I’m not… I don’t want to. You’re my best friend and I love you dearly. Don’t do this please." He dumped the drink. "I figure you got it from your dad’s stash, but Mac if it’s not good for him how can it be good for you?" Harm wanted desperately to save her.

She considered the argument. "Maybe you’re right."

"I know I am. Promise you’ll stop."

She nodded.

==========================================

Part Eleven by Malysa (MelMarie612@aol.com)
Rating: PG

==========================================

MARCH 14, 1991 - 1800 LOCAL
MAC’S HOTEL ROOM
BETHESDA, MD

Mac laid on her bed and stared up at the ceiling. She had gotten leave time only by telling her CO that she wouldn’t be in the office on Monday whether she had leave or not. Her request was approved only because her superior hated the paper work that went along with declaring an officer AWOL.

No matter how hard she tried, Mac couldn’t get to sleep. Her odd revelation was eating at her very soul. Could she be in love with Harm? The very thought was absurd. How could she love him that way?

Knowing that lying in her dark room would be of no use, she jumped up and grabbed her keys. She was out of the room before the second hand on the clock could do half of a rotation.

==========================================

1830 LOCAL
BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL
BETHESDA, MD

Mac exited the elevator and walked quickly toward her best friend’s room. She was glad he was in a private room because she might have felt bad for keeping the other patients up. It was when she got to the doorway that she heard another voice in the room. Keeter and Sturgis had a female visitor in the room, and she sounded distinctly like Mac herself.

Sarah peeked in the door and saw the person she dreaded seeing--Diane. It wasn’t that she didn’t like her; they were just so different though their looks were very much a like. The fact that Diane seemed to be taking her place in Harm’s life was what really pissed her off. Deciding that there was no reason for her to sneak around, she walked into the room with her head held high.

"Hey, Mac. You got leave, right?" Sturgis asked fully in big brother mode. Ever since he and Keeter first met Mac, they were very protective of her.

"Yes, I did. I couldn’t sleep, so I decided to come back down here. Has there been any change?" Mac questioned Keeter and Sturgis effectively ignoring Diane. It wasn’t because she was rude--the exact opposite actually. She just didn’t want to get into an argument with the slightly older female Navy officer in a hospital.

"The doctor doesn’t see any reason for him to not wake up within 24 to 48 hours," Diane responded with a sweet, but fake, smile on her face. She didn’t like Mac any more than Mac liked her. She always felt as if she was just a replacement because of Mac. Not that Harm would ever do something like that…intentionally. "Hello, Mac. It’s nice to see you again."

"Hi, Diane. Likewise."

"Well, I’m going to get some coffee. Does anyone want anything?" Diane asked standing up. Everyone said no, and she was on her way.

"What?" Mac asked Sturgis annoyed that he was looking at her the way he was.

"You’re jealous," he accused.

"I am not!"

"You are so jealous, Sarah Mackenzie," Keeter backed up his friend. He grinned knowingly at the woman he had grown to love as a good friend. She was a very likeable person once you get to know her.

"Mac?" a quiet voice across the room choked out. The three other occupants of the room turned in shock toward Harm who was struggling to keep his eyes open in the bright light of the sterile white hospital room.


==========================================

Part Twelve by Audrey <ScullysKid83@juno.com>
Rating: G

==========================================

SEPTEMBER 1978
FRIDAY, 1531 LOCAL
SCHOOL YARD

Life was great! Harmon Rabb Jr practically strutted down the front steps of the school. Angela McMartin, a 17-year-old senior, had agreed to go the movies with him! The same Angela McMartin who, just a month previous, had been supposedly going steady with the despicable Sturgis Turner. It was a well known fact that Harm and Sturgis hated each other - they competed over every little thing. Including girls. The fact that Harm had effectively stolen the older girls heart away from Sturgis only boosted Harm's growing ego.

"Harm! Wait up!" Mac hurried down the steps after her friend. "Haarrm!"

Harm stopped only long enough to catch up, then continued at a quick pace.

"What's with the power walk?" Mac inquired, adjusting her backpack. He didn't answer, so she continued. "Hey, so I was thinking. 'Star Wars' is still playing down at the MegaPlex, and I usually spend Fridays at your house anyways so...why don't we go see it again?"

"Can't." Harm replied, hurrying across the street. "I'm busy."

Mac looked slightly crestfallen. "You're never busy on Friday nights, Harm."

He shrugged. "Well, I am this Friday night."

"Harm! I always spend Friday nights at your house!" This time, her voice indicated the slight hurt she was feeling. As of late, the nights at her house were getting real bad. The only thing that got her through the week was the thought that she'd get to spend Friday night at her best friend's house.

"It's only one Friday night, Mac."

She gave no reply, only slowed her pace. If Harm noticed, he gave no indication and just kept walking.

==========================================

1905 LOCAL
MAC'S HOUSE

Mac sat in front of her house, listening to the silence. It was quiet, but within a few hours she knew that would change. Her parents fought more and more, and her mom kept threatening to leave. She had, once, but had come back the next morning after her father had pleaded with her to return. For a few days, things had been harmonious. But it had quickly gone back to being routine.

"Hey, Mac." She looked up as her friend Eddie approached, a paper bag in his hands. "Took it from my dad's stash." He informed her, opening the bag and handing her a bottle. "Vodka. Strong stuff. Drink enough and it'll knock you out so you won't have to live through your dad's hell tonight."

"Thanks." Mac accepted the bottle, cradling it to her. Harm knew she drank, and he'd kill her if he knew that Eddie supplied her with most of the alcohol, but he was out with Angela McMartin. Mac had seen the two of them leaving together. The thought of Harm going out with a girl like Angela disgusted Mac. Angela was a stuck up bitch. However, she was a very well developed stuck up bitch, and so the guys were naturally attracted to her.

"I heard that Angela's first time was when she was twelve." Eddie commented, seemingly reading the thoughts on Mac's mind.

"First time?" Mac questioned, before it dawned on her. Oh. First time. Got it. She and Eddie sat in silence, watching as the stars began to twinkle into view. She and Eddie were good friends, not as close as she and Harm, but good friends. They spent a lot of time together lately because Harm always seemed to be off with some girl, or trying to get in contact with his dad. Never before had it bugged Mac that Harm was growing up, spending more time away from her. But it did tonight. Perhaps because he had blown off what had become their own Friday night tradition.

"You think...?" She began, and then stopped.

"Do I think what?" Eddie questioned, tilting his head to look at her.

"Nothing." Mac replied, eyes darting from him back to the sky. "Thanks Eddie. I owe you."

Her friend shrugged. "No problem. See you later."

Mac sighed as she watched Eddie disappeared into the distance. From inside her house she heard her father beginning to ramble about the news on television. It was starting. It always started with him upset at all the bad news on television. Sighing again, she reached for the bottle of Vodka. It was going to be a long night.

==========================================

2215 LOCAL
HARM AND MAC'S STREET

No! Damn him! Damn her! Harm stalked angrily down the street, hands jammed into his pockets, kicking at a small rock on the ground. He watched as it tumbled down the street ahead of him, getting lost in the darkness.

He and Angela had been at the movies. About halfway through the movie, Angela had excused herself to go to the restroom. She had never returned. As Harm walked out of the theater, he had caught a glimpse of Angela in the backseat of Jon Allen's car. Jon Allen, as in the MVP of the school football team. Jon Allen, as in Sturgis Turner's best friend. Harm had confronted her, of course. And her response?

"Too young!" Harm spoke those hated words aloud. "She said I was too young for her!"

Harm stopped in his tracks at the sound of something breaking. He stood in front of Mac’s house and could see her parents arguing forms silhouetted against the window. Almost instantly guilt overtook his anger. He could have had a nice evening catching a movie with his best friend. Instead he had left her to...this...while he was out with Angela feeling like a total idiot.

"H...Harm?" Mac emerged from the side yard on wobbly legs.

"Mac?" Harm moved to her side. "Mac are you...." The stench of alcohol was all over her. It was strong enough to make him take a step back. "You’ve been drinking!" He accused.

"Vodka." She confirmed. "I got halfway through the bottle and...." She paused, putting a hand to her mouth and burped quietly. "...and got sick. I was trying to hurry around to the backyard so Dad wouldn’t see me and I tripped. Spilled the rest of the bottle down my front."

"Come on." Harm urged, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. "You can get cleaned up at my place. I think I have some stuff you can wear while we wash your clothes."

They made their way slowly to Harm’s house, pausing momentarily for him to unlock the door. "Mom’s gone tonight." He explained. "On a date with some guy."

"How was...Angela?" Mac slurred, as they stepped through the doorway.

"Don’t ask."

Despite herself, Mac grinned. "I thought you told me no one could resist the Rabb charm?"

Harm only snorted in reply, fighting to withhold the smile that threatened to creep across his face. "Go on and wash up. I’ll see what if I have any clean clothes for you."

Half an hour later, Mac stretched out on the sofa as Harm pulled a blanket over her.

"Bad?" Harm asked, sitting on the floor beside her.

Mac knew what he meant. "Yeah. I guess there was a fatal shoot out at the bank today that made the news. You know how Dad hates news like that. He started drinking before the newscast was even over." Before he could respond, she settled in, eyes closing sleepily. "Thanks Harm."

"Always." He replied, watching as she drifted off to sleep. He gently brushed a strand of her hair away from her face, reveling in the softness of her skin. "’Night Sarah."

Quietly he got to his feet and, after looking back at her once, he went off to bed.


==========================================

Part Thirteen by Pat [ssbpmn@aol.com ]

==========================================

BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL

"Harm, oh Harm thank God," Mac breathed, at his bedside at once, taking his hand in hers.

"Mac what are you doing here?" he gasped. "Could someone turn out the light? It hurts. Sturgis, Keeter? OK what's going on? My head is killing me. Where the hell am I any way. Why are you guys aboard?"

"Whoa slow down Sailor," Mac said softly, stroking the back of his hand. "I know you're not supposed to be getting all upset. You've given us all a scare, especially me. Do you remember anything?"

"The storm. The storm and the carrier," he gasped again shielding his eyes as Turner turned off the bright light. "It was storming, bad. The deck was pitching. I was about out of fuel. Had to make it in that pass. Too low. Too low. Glide path too low. He was waving me off. But I couldn't go around again. Ramp strike. And fire. Everywhere. I don't remember anything else. But how did you guys get out here so fast?"

"Harm it's been about seventy-two hours since it happened," she said gently, stroking his hair back from his forehead. "And you're not on the carrier. You were medivac'd to Ramstein and from there to Bethesda." She had to choke down a sob before she could go on. "I was so afraid you were never going to wake up."

"I'm so confused," he murmured, putting his hand to his eyes. "My RIO? How is he?"

Sturgis and Keeter both stepped forward when Mac did not reply right away.

"OK tell me," Harm demanded.

"He's dead Harm, I'm sorry," Sturgis spoke up. "He was killed on impact."

Harm's eyes squeezed shut and he sank deeply into his pillow. "I should have died too."

"Harm please don't even think that," Mac begged tearfully. "It's going to be OK. All that matters is that you're awake. You're going to be OK now."

"You now my career is over," he murmured. "The crash is my fault. I'm not going to be flying paper planes when the investigation is finished." He choked off a sob of his own and added bitterly, "I hope McDonald's is hiring."

"OK Rabb, that's it," Keeter groaned. "You're not going to lay there and feel sorry for yourself. You've got plenty of expertise you can give the Navy. They're not going to get rid of you even if you don't fly any more. So knock that off and be glad you're OK and be glad there's a woman here who cares enough to put up with you. Though God knows why."

"Oh my God he's awake," Diane gasped from the doorway. "Harm I've been so worried."

==========================================

Part Fourteen by Rising Sun (jagrslc@yahoo.com)

==========================================


FRIDAY, OCTOBER 26, 1979
AT THE DUCK POND

Mac had been searching for Harm all day. She hadn’t spotted him at school or on the route to or from school. It was as if he had disappeared. The day before had been his sixteenth birthday and his mom had had a small gathering for him after all sixteen was a milestone!

She had resorted to looking for him in their various haunts and she had just one more left. If he were not there then she’d lie in wait for him at his house and ambush him. She headed for the duck pond on the edge of town.

As she approached on her bicycle she saw the familiar form of Harm. In one fluid motion the bike came to a halt, Mac jumped off and she flung herself on her best friend.

"Hey!" he jumped.

"Harm I was worried! I couldn’t find you anywhere!" The eleven year old wailed.

"I’ve been around squirt." He said.

"I’ll be twelve next month so watch who you call squirt." Came her automatic response. "Did you play hooky?"

When he didn’t reply she continued, "Is it that bad turning sixteen?"

"No." he whispered, "It's that bad moving on."

She frowned "Sorry? You not making sense." She plonked herself next to him.

He didn’t reply immediately and they sat watching the ducks glide about in the pond. Harm took a deep breath and began to speak "I’m going away Mac."

"NO!" The pre-teen screamed "Harm you can’t!" She was becoming hysterical. "Don’t leave me please!"

He took a hold of her. "Get a grip Mac. I’ll be back!"

She was already sobbing. "You’ll be back?"

"Uh huh."

"When?"

"I don’t know."

She struggled to get control of herself "What kind of answer is that! What are you going away for anyway!

He looked even more sober. "I’m going to get my dad."

Mac looked shocked "Say what?"

"You heard me." He said.

"I heard something." She retorted.

"I’m going to Vietnam then I’ll be back cause I have to graduate so that I can enter Annapolis. You are still going right?"

She looked skeptical. "You and Uncle Matt are the people closest to me, but if you are leaving me."

"I’m not leaving you Mac. I’m going on a mission … I will be back. And we will go to Annapolis. I’ll go NAVY and you’ll be a Marine like your Uncle. We’ve talked about this. Don’t back out on me now."

She remained silent.

"Mac I need to know you’ll be here when I get back. Wait for me please." He tried a new tactic. "If you want I’ll beg." He tickled her.

She giggled "No fair Harm!"

He tickled some more "Say yes." He commanded.

"Stop!" She squealed.

He continued, "Say yes!"

"Yes! Yes!" she surrendered.

He stopped. "Good."

"Harm."

"Mmmm."

"Come back safe." She asked.

"I will jarhead." He promised.

"Squid." She grinned.

==========================================

NOVEMBER 13, 1979
MACKENZIE RESIDENCE

For the first time in a long time Sarah Mackenzie - Marine in waiting celebrated her birthday without Harm.

She was twelve years old and it had been a crappy day and one she vowed she’d forget.

She picked up the phone and dialed. "Hey Eddie." She said as he answered the phone. "What you doing?"

"Hanging around." He replied.

"Wanna meet at the old mill?" She asked.

"A bring what you drink meeting?" he inquired.

"What else!"

"See you in fifteen." He promised.

She hung up. Yep it was a day she’d soon forget.

==========================================

NOVEMBER 13, 1979
FIVE MINUTES LATER
PUBLIC PAYPHONE SOME WHERE IN VIETNAM

Harm finally hung up the phone.

"Any luck?" Gyn his newly made female friend asked.

He shook his head. "It’s her birthday today maybe her folks took her out." But he didn’t sound convinced.

"Maybe." Gyn echoed.

==========================================

Part Fifteen by Malysa (MelMarie612@aol.com)
Rating: PG13 (There are some swear words...)

==========================================

1845 LOCAL
BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL
BETHESDA, MD

"Diane, what are you doing here?" Harm asked trying to process it all. Everything seemed so confusing and unreal. How could this be happening? Why was it happening to him?

"When I heard about your crash, I was on the next available transport. Would you expect anything else?" Diane told him. She walked up to him and kissed him gently on his forehead. Internally, she took pleasure in Mac's backward step. Externally, she was only the concern sort-of-girlfriend.

"Of course. Sorry. I guess, I'm in shock still. If you guys wouldn't mind, I kinda want to be alone," Harm said to his friends giving them each a look. As they all said goodbye and backed toward the door, he stopped Mac. "Hey, Mac, could you stay for just a minute?"

Mac nodded and turned to the others. "I'll catch up with you later." Slowly and even a bit hesitantly, she approached Harm's bedside.

"How long have you been here?" he asked her. Somehow he knew that she had been there since he arrived.

"I think you know the answer to that, Stickboy," she replied using her favorite nickname for him from childhood. His tall lanky frame from back then fit the description, and now it was just fun to tease him with.

"I figured as much, Squirt," Harm retaliated. She wasn't the only one with potentially embarrassing nicknames and memories to use.

"Watch who you call 'Squirt', Squid," she smirked at him. She sobered up and looked down at the floor. When she brought her face back up, her eyes were filled with tears that began to run down her cheeks. "You had me scared there for a second or two, Harm."

"Sarah..." Harm murmured thumbing away her tears. All his problems slipped away when he saw her cry. It had always been that way for him. Mac had always been the most important thing in his life. "You know as well as anyone that it would take a lot more than just a plane crash to take me down. I'm too stubborn."

"Damn straight," Mac chuckled wiping away the remaining tear tracks on the face. "Flyboy, you do know that although you can be a huge pain in my ass, I do need you. You’re my best friend. I love you, and I'm not sure if I can live without you in my life. I don't want to have to find out either."

**I love you Harm … come back to me. I can’t live without you.** Harm remembered hearing that somewhere, but he couldn't place it. It wasn't said like Mac would have said it, so there was no way it could have come from her. It was said as a lover would say it. Diane? He couldn't recall her saying that to him, but it would have to be. She was the only woman he really knew who was that open with her emotions.

"I love you; too, Mac, and I hope that neither of us ever has to worry about living without the other. No God could be that cruel. Not after everything we've been through together."

"You're right."

"I usually am."

"Watch it, Sailor."

"What of it, Jarhead?"

"Go to sleep, Harm."

"Will you stay? Just until I fall asleep?"

"Will you go to sleep?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Promise?"

Mac's only response was silence. She groaned exasperatedly at her best friend. He was always so complicated. He was worse than most four year olds. Ever since meeting him, she had more respect for parents of young children.

"Harm, you need to sleep. Whether I stay or not, you still do. So either I go or you promise to get some sleep. Which is it?"

"I'll sleep."

"Was that really all that difficult?"

"Yes," he pouted. Sliding over in his hospital bed, he looked in Mac's eyes. "I know that you won't go to your hotel tonight just as you hadn't since I've gotten here so come on and lay down. Really, Marine, you look like hell."

Mac laughed at his strange sense of charm and climbed into the bed beside him. She laid her head down on his shoulder, and they both got some much-needed rest.

==========================================

Part Sixteen by Audrey <ScullysKid83@juno.com>
Rating: G

==========================================

19 NOVEMBER 1980
1705 LOCAL

KITCHEN - RABB RESIDENCE

"I hate Shakespeare."

Mac looked up from her homework and glanced across the table at her friend. Harm glared at the books that lay open before him on the table, shifting through papers and folders. A smile flitted across Mac's face. "Why?"

Noticing his young friends grin, Harm snorted softly. "Just wait, Mac." He promised. "Just you wait until you're seventeen and stuck in Mrs. Klinger's English 101 class. That woman is a witch. All this Shakespeare....I don't even think this is English!"

Mac laughed. "Yeah, well if you'd pay attention to the lecture and not the girl beside you I bet you'd understand Shakespeare better."

Before Harm could fire back with a suitable retort, adult laughter filtered in from the living room, followed by the appearance of Trish and Frank. Frank Burnette was the new man in Trish Rabb's life. A fact Harm didn't like.

"Hi honey." Trish greeted her son warmly. "How was school?"

"Fine." Harm replied, his gaze fixed on Frank a moment before shifting back to his work. He gave the man no greeting - he didn't trust himself to be able to be civil to him. Harm didn't like Frank and that was that.

"Better than fine." Mac quipped with a knowing grin directed at her friend. "You told me that LeAnna..." The grin turned to a frown as she was kicked underneath the table.

Trish chuckled. "I see. Hello Mac, nice to see you again."

"You too, Mrs. Rabb." The thirteen-year old replied. "And you too, Frank." She added.

Frank smiled back at her, returning the greeting with a warm smile. He seemed relieved that at least she seemed to like him; Harm had buried his nose back in his book.

Trish moved across the kitchen, opening cupboards and pulling down ingredients for dinner. "Frank is staying for dinner." She said. "He makes a wonderful veggie lasagna."

Frank chuckled, moving to help her. "I've been cooking since I was seven," He informed her. "My veggie lasagna has had years to be perfected."

Trish laughed, and Mac smiled appreciatively. Harm caught his friend’s gaze and rolled his eyes before returning to his homework.

"Would you like to stay for dinner, Mac?" Trish asked.

"There'll be plenty of lasagna to go around." Frank added.

Once again, Harm caught Mac's eyes, seemingly pleading her to stay. "I'd love to." She replied, smiling to the adults. "Dad probably won't be home 'til late and Mom doesn't bother too much with dinner when he's not home."

+ + +

ONE HOUR LATER

"Smells delicious, Frank." Trish informed him as the four sat down to dinner.

Mac silently agreed. It had been quite a while since her mother had prepared a meal such as the one set before her on this night: veggie lasagna, a large salad, and freshly baked breadsticks. She inhaled the wonderful aromas, a smile gracing her features.

Dinner was filled with little conversation, and afterwards everyone, Harm included, agreed that Frank's veggie lasagna was heavenly. Harm and Frank even managed to exchange a few jokes between themselves without any of the normal tension between them.

Mac smiled, watching her friend actually enjoying the time with Frank. Trish was apparently thinking the same thing for a smile could also be found on the older woman's face. When Trish leaned over to exchange a quiet word with Frank, Mac turned to see Harm smiling at her.

"Not such a bad guy, now is he?" She inquired softly, leaning a tad closer to him so they could speak without being overheard.

"I guess not." Harm replied. "And he IS a good cook."

Mac laughed, and across the table Trish cleared her throat softly.

"Harm? There's something I would like to talk to you about."

Harm's smile faltered a bit as he glanced between Frank and Trish. Something was up. He knew it. Mac felt her friend tense beside her and looked from him to the adults seated across from them.

"Harm," Trish began. "Frank and I have been thinking..."

"About what?"

Trish and Frank exchanged a quick look. "About getting married." Trish finished, taking a hold of one of Frank's hands in hers.

Harm looked like he had been slapped. "Wh... what?" He stammered. Before anyone else could speak he went on. "What about Dad?"

Trish leveled her son with a steady gaze. "Harm, we've talked about this..."

"He's not dead!" Harm exploded, knocking his chair over as he stood angrily. Mac watched her friend storm out of the house, slamming the front door behind him. The trio gathered around the table looked at each other in stunned silence for a moment.

Finally, Trish spoke. "I am so sorry, Frank." She said. "I thought it would be a good time to bring it up. You and he were getting along so well I thought..."

Frank nodded and patted her hand, which gripped his firmly. "It's alright, really."

"Maybe if I go talk to him..."

"I'll go." Mac interrupted Trish, quickly standing. "I know all his brooding spots."

With a nod of consent from the older woman, Mac hurried out of the house and after her friend.

+ + +


THE DUCK POND
1853 LOCAL

The stars were beginning to twinkle against the sky as Mac made her way to the pond. She had checked all of Harm's other haunts and had yet to find him, so that left only the pond and the park. She doubted, however, that he would pick the park to brood, as there was almost always someone there. At the pond, there were only the ducks. It was the perfect spot.

Her instincts proved correct, and in the growing darkness she saw Harm's form perched on an old log near the waters edge. The ducks glided quietly over the water, heading towards the reeds to settle in for the night. The only sounds in the air were the few local pond frogs, a cricket, and every few moments the sound of a rock being skipped across the water.

"Hey." She greeted softly, sitting beside him on the log.

Harm grunted a reply, one leg drawn up to his chest, his chin resting on his knee. He reached down to the ground, selected a rock, and sent it skipping over the water. One, two, three...plop.

"Betcha I can get four." Mac challenged, selecting her own skipping rocks.

"Puh. I bet I can get six."

For a long while, they didn't discuss what had occurred at dinner. They only laughed and skipped rocks across the water. They only stopped when Harm's last rock skipped ten times and hit a duck in the reeds. The duck quacked loudly at the interruption and took flight.

"It's just not fair." Harm stated finally, watching the duck disappear into the night.

"What? That your mom has found someone that makes her happy?" Mac asked, toying with the laces on her shoes.

"My dad made her happy." Harm said firmly. "He's still alive. I don't know why she'd ever want to marry someone else. It's like...adultery or something."

Mac swallowed and said carefully, "Harm? If your father is alive, why hasn't he come back? Maybe he is dead." He turned his head sharply to glare at her, but she continued. "You should be proud of your mom! My mom said that there is one person for everyone. Your mom has found TWO. She's lonely, Harm. Don't you see it when you look at her? With you growing up and moving away soon she will be totally alone in that big house. She needs someone."

Harm sighed, turning his gaze to the water. Truth be told he HAD noticed. But he was so sure that his dad was alive..."I am proud of her, Mac." He said finally, softly. "But it's...hard. Frank...he's not...he's..."

"Not your dad." Mac finished. "And he never will be. But don't you think you can give him a chance? For your mom's sake? He treats her like royalty. He'd never do anything to hurt her, you know that."

"Yeah," Harm said. "But I don't need a step dad..."

"But she needs a husband, Harm." Mac took her friends hand in hers. "Give him a chance?"

Harm studied her for a long minute, the sighed and turned away. "I guess."

With a small smile, Mac leaned over and gave him a hug. "She's very lucky to have a son like you."

Harm returned the hug. "And I'm lucky to have a friend like you." As they held each other, Harm's thoughts were of his mother. For her, he'd give Frank a chance. For her, and because Mac had asked it. But it would be only one chance.

==========================================

Part Seventeen by Pat [ssbpmn@aol.com]

==========================================

BETHESDA NAVAL HOSPITAL

Diane finally wandered back, having taken a walk to clear her head, and now met up with Keeter in the hallway and he gestured into the open door of Harm's room. "They look kind of cute don't they?"

"Yeah adorable," she muttered. "Look I'm not going to stay right now. Harm has all the support he needs and he's obviously going to be OK. I'm not good in a crowd especially when I feel I'm competing."

"Diane don't be dumb. Harm is glad you're here."

"If he was all that glad, it would be me sharing his bed," she snapped.

"Not necessarily. Remember Harm and Sarah have grown up together and been best friends forever. What he feels for her and what he feels for you are surely two different things."

"Yeah one is love and the other isn't."

"You don't know that," Keeter chided her. "Aren't you at least going to hang around to say goodbye?"

"No I've only got forty-eight hours pass and I'm not going to waste it here being the extra wheel. There are other people I could be with instead of hanging around the halls of this mausoleum. He knows where to find me when he wants to see me." With that she turned on her heel and marched down the hallway.

Sturgis caught up with Keeter in time to see Diane disappear. "OK what's with her?"

"She's getting a dose of reality," Keeter smiled, gesturing toward the bed.

"Ah. A little competition," Sturgis smiled. "Did you try to tell her it's not like that?"

"Yeah but I wasn't very convincing," he sighed. "Probably because I wasn't believing it myself."

It wasn't for another two hours that Harm awoke, stirring uncomfortably and waking Mac.

"You OK?" She rolled to her side and sat up groggily, smoothing some sweat-damp hair off his forehead.

"Yeah I think so, just a hurting a little," he murmured. "And very ready to get out of here. When can I?"

"You're whining there Sailor," she smiled. "I guess in a couple days. What then?"

"I want to go to Grams," he said after a moment's thought.

"Not to your mom?" she frowned.

"No. Frank and I aren't on the best of terms yet," he sighed. "Me being there is just going to be tense. Besides I kind of feel like a more laid back thing that I can get on the farm." He took a long breath and cupped her cheek with his palm. "I want you to come. With me. For as much as you can. If you can get leave."

"Me? Me? Not Diane?" she stammered.

He looked around to make sure Diane was not in the area before he answered. "You. I need a best friend right now. Someone who's unselfish enough to take care of me, as needy as that sounds. Diane is. . .well she's clingy and needy and I can't deal with that right now, not combined with how messed up I am. Please say you'll come."

For a long moment she froze, hardly daring to breathe, trying to determine if his desire for her was simply in friendship and need or rooted in something more--something he could not articulate. "Of course I will. I'll call my XO for leave."

==========================================

Part Eighteen by Rising Sun (jagrslc@yahoo.com)

==========================================


END OF SUMMER OF 1981
AT THE DUCK POND

Harm’s going to Vietnam had been a blow to Mac and it had taken some doing but she and Harm were back to being as thick as two peas in a pod. This day they sat as they had done two years ago to say good-bye.

"We’re getting too good at saying good-bye" Mac observed.

"Mac…" Harm said.

"It’s ok." She assured him as she watched the remaining ducks in the pond. Soon they too would be gone as they migrated south. "This time I’m ready. Last time you just sprung your leaving on me."

"You’ll come see me off?" He asked.

Mac stood, walked away and went to lean against a tree. He followed.

"That’s a hard request Harm." The thirteen year old confessed.

He followed her. "Mac you’re crying." He was shocked. Mac didn’t usually cry. He felt bad that he was the cause. He reached over and wiped first one then the other cheek. She looked at him and their eyes locked. By mutual unspoken consent Harm leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Mac had never been kissed before… well not in that way but her instincts kicked in with a vengeance. She slipped one arm round his waist, the other round his neck and she parted her lips. The instant she did that a wave of pleasure washed over her and threatened to drown her.

At seventeen Harm had obviously done this before and when Mac parted her mouth he slipped his tongue and deepened the kiss. He held her close as though his soul depended on it.

Suddenly the kiss ended abruptly and Harm stepped back gasping. "Oh God I’m sorry Mac!"

She was confused "Sorry?" Her bottom lip trembled. "Was it that bad? I have nothing to measure it by."

Now he was lost "Bad? No! No! It was great!"

Her confusion deepened "Then what?"

"Mac brothers and sisters don’t kiss like that. I crossed the line and I was apologizing for that."

She smiled "Oh" She understood.

"Don’t do that." He begged.

"What."

"Grin."

Now she chuckled "Harm you’re an idiot." She poked him.

"You have no idea do you."

"Harm you are seventeen years old speak in English!" She commanded.

"OK." He said. "You’re beautiful Sarah."

"Sarah? Harm you haven’t called me Sarah in years. " Then it registered "Beautiful? Me?"

"Uh huh. You have a beautiful spirit and a gorgeous face with a body to kill for." He blushed "Er sorry Mac."

"It’s ok. Nice to know what other folks think of me."

"Not other folks Mac." He corrected "Me."

"You." She corrected.

He nodded. "I’ve known for years that I was born to be your bodyguard."

She snorted.

"It’s true!" He protested. "Mac when you get to Annapolis you are going to be the center of attention! And it will fall to big brother here to stop those slimy maggots from getting to you!"

She giggled "Harm you are so funny when you are in earnest. Come sit."

They returned to their original position but this time they lay out in the dying summer sun. After a while her regular breathing told Harm that she had fallen asleep. He grinned. Mac could sleep anywhere, a definite asset in the Military. She was going to be a formidable Marine of that he was convinced.

He watched his best friend/sister sleeping and remembered the kiss they just had. He had been deadly serious. Sarah Mackenzie at thirteen was good looking by eighteen when she joined him at Annapolis she’d be a beauty and by her twenty’s she’d be gorgeous.

Sarah Rabb popped into his head. He frowned. He’d heard that men and women couldn’t be friends but he and Mac had always proved the exception to that rule. Until today.

He was already jealous of the man she’d marry and he knew why. His love for her had changed hence the kiss hence his thoughts of being married to her.

He thanked God that he was leaving soon. His present relationship with her, his sibling devotion to her was too precious to be lost on something as transient as intimate love.

He poked her in the ribs. She rolled over and collided into him and awoke. "What?"

"Time to go sleepy head."

"OK."

==========================================

D-DAY
MACKENZIE’S RESIDNCE

Mornings were the best time of day at Mac’s house. Her dad was either human or out cold either way it was a safe time. This morning he was human.

She’d woken up with a dying need for a drink. Harm was departing today and she had twenty-five minutes fifteen seconds to get to his place. But the bottle in the back of her closet called to her. God how she needed that drink! But if Harm smelt it and he would even if she brushed and used Listerine he’d smell it… he’d go ballistic.

"Mac!" Joe Mackenzie appeared in the door. "Aren’t you going to see Harm off?"

"Yes!" She replied and headed for the shower. "Thanks pop!"

"Anytime my Little Marine." He called after her.

==========================================

D-DAY
RABB’S RESIDNCE

Trish Rabb watched her son pace. "Harm you are going to put a hole in the carpet." She teased.

"She promised mom and the taxi will be here soon."

"… and she’ll be here son. Take it easy." The bond between Harm and Mac was a phenomenon that she had watched with fascination over the years. The two had gone from adversaries to best friends to siblings to… Trish didn’t know what but she was a grown woman and she knew when a relationship was shifting gears. Nothing had happened yet her intuition told her but it was happening and neither teenager knew it.

"I’m going over there." He suddenly said.

Before she could reply he began to move towards the door. "Why?" a voice asked.

Trish heaved a sign of extreme relief. Of late only Mac seemed able to exert any controls over her son and today of all days she needed to control Harm. He thought that a taxi was coming when it was really Frank Burnette. Harm didn’t like the man.

"Where were you!" He demanded.

"Over slept sorry." She explained sheepishly.

"Uh huh." Harm was suddenly lost for words. Trish left the room.

"Awkward moment number three hundred and ten." She chuckled.

He smiled. "You and your awkward moments."

Suddenly she moved forward and enveloped him in a bear hug. "I’m going to miss you squid!"

He hugged her back; her hair was still wet from her shower. He closed his eyes a vision of Mac in the shower is not want he wanted to take away with him. "Promise you’ll write?" he begged.

"Promise." She assured him.

I’m sorry." He said.

"You seem to be doing that a lot. What now?"

"I’m going to miss your birthday." He explained.

She shrugged. "Thirteen and fourteen were not all that great I have no expectations for fifteen."

"But still..."

"Shh" She placed a finger on his mouth. "Be still. It’s ok. Really."

Trish returned to find them that way in the hug with Mac’s finger on Harm’s mouth. Uh huh she thought to herself I’m right there is something emerging here. She coughed. "Harm honey it’s time." Then she plunged in "Frank is here."

Mac felt her friend tense. He was still holding her and the grip tightened. She gasped "Harm. Harm I can’t breathe." She managed.

He let go suddenly. She staggered and he steadied her "Sorry Mac. You ok?"

She nodded and then said softly for his ears only. "You are going away to become an officer and a gentleman. Start now, with Frank and the ride."

Trish watched as Mac said something to Harm and his entire body language changed. She couldn’t hear what was being said but she saw the control being exerted even if the controller and the controlled didn’t know it was happening.

Harm replied just as softly "Aye ma’am." He straightened himself and turned to his mother. "Ready."

[Bless you Mac] Trish mentally thanked the young woman.

Harm picked up his case and they all walked out of the house. Trish was going all the way to Washington DC with him.

As Mac stood in the yard watching Harm place the case in the boot she remembered the bag in her hand. "Oh wait!" Mac called "I almost forgot." She handed him a parcel with instructions. "Don’t open it till you get there."

He grinned. "Thanks Mac." He kissed her on the cheek then joined his mother and her boyfriend in the car. Mac watched till the car rounded the corner at the end of the block taking with it the most influential person in her life.

She returned to her room and finished the three quarter bottle of whiskey.

+ + +

Trish heard the paper tearing and turned round. "Harm!" she admonished. "Mac said to wait."

"And she knows that I won’t. What she meant was for me to open it when she wasn’t around." He explained. He gasped.

"What is it?" Frank asked.

Harm bristled but remembered Mac’s advice. He showed it to his mother who described it.

At first she was over come with emotion then she said. "It’s a three picture frame. To the left is a picture of Harm and Mac when he returned from Vietnam to the right is a picture of Harm Sr, with Harm at five and I and in the middle is the poem Desiderata. " She sniffed. "It’s beautiful."

Harm took the precious item from her and said, "I know."

=======================================

Part Nineteen by Malysa (MelMarie612@aol.com)
Rating: Strong PG-13 (sexual situation - tastefully done)

***AN: Though I live in the state of Pennsylvania, I've never been to Belleville and have absolutely no idea what it's really like. Please forgive any flaws. Also, since Grandma Sara hasn't made any appearances on the show, I'm molding her into my own person. She's made in the image of my own Abuela who I absolutely adore.***

=======================================

1630 HOURS LOCAL
RABB FARM
BELLEVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA

"Finally!" Harm exclaimed standing up and stretching next to Mac in her car. He looked up the hill at his beloved grandmother's home and relaxed for the first time in days. Since his father went MIA when he was 6 years old, there were only two places he felt at peace: Mac’s arms and Gram’s farm. Both of the women had always been able to calm and sooth him.

"Yeah, I know what you mean. At least you could have slept," Mac smiled at him. She had to drive since Harm had just gotten released from the hospital.

Instead of sleeping like he should’ve been, he had decided to stay up and complain about everything she did the entire way. By the time they had reached Pennsylvania, she was ready to through him out the window. The only thing that stopped her was the thought of having to tell Grams that she...lost the woman’s grandson somewhere along the road. Sarah loved the older Sara deeply, but she should have seriously been a Marine.

"Harmon! Sarah!" Sara Rabb called from the front porch. She stood tall just like her son and grandson with the same dark hair and blue-green eyes. Even at her age, she was as youthful as ever, living independently and easily on her shrinking family farm.

"Grams!" both officers said at the same time with matching grins. They lifted their bags from the back seat and walked quickly up the stone pathway. it had been a long time since they'd come here together. Of course, over the years, they had come separately whenever they could get leave. They both missed the eldest Rabb very much.

When Harm and Mac reached the porch, Sara enveloped them both in a tight embrace.

"Come inside! It's chilly out here, and you wouldn't let an old woman freeze to death, would you?" Sara joked ushering them both through the front screen door.

"You'll never be old, Grams," Harm smiled with a boyish, hopeful smile. He felt better now than he had in years, and the irony of it all was that less than twenty-four hours earlier, he had felt like his life was over.

+ + +

A couple hours later...

"More?" Sara asked Mac pointing to the stew pot. She had made her special beef stew that she knew the young marine liked, and since her grandson was such a picky eater, she thought to make eggplant Parmesan. Her efforts didn't go unappreciated.

"I couldn't eat more if I tried, Grams. It was great," Mac smiled at the woman she considered more family than her blood.

"It was really good, Grams. I can't remember the last time I had a home cooked meal," Harm added.

"So, Harmon, have you started to think of other possibilities yet?" Grams questioned carefully. She knew that the wound was still fresh and her prying would be much like salt.

"I haven't had time to begin to believe that this is all happening yet," Harm admitted. He stood up after a minute of silence. "I'm going to go for a walk around the property. I'll be back in a little while." He left the women alone in the country-style kitchen.

"I have always believed that things happen for a reason," Sara stated softly.

"I've had to. My husband passed when my son was only a small boy, and my son went missing before he got to witness his boy growing up. Harmon was on a path of self-destruction when he met you. He was only ten years old, and he had the eyes of a fifty year old man. You saved him and stayed with him. You've always been with him. Maybe God knew what he was doing when He made Harmon's plane go low. Maybe He has some kind of plan for Harm...and you, too, Sarah."

Sara Rabb left the room and Mac to ponder the meaning of the wise woman's cryptic words.

+ + +

1955 HOURS LOCAL
RABB FAMILY FARM (OLD BARN)
BELLEVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA

"I knew I'd find you in here."

Harm looked up from the dirt floor in front of him to see his best friend standing at the entrance of the old, unused barn. She was dressed differently than he was use to seeing her. Ever since they were kids, Mac was a tomboy and usually dressed in jeans and t-shirts, but now she stood in front of him in a blue flowered sundress that ended just below her knees. He smiled at the accessories that were purely Sarah Mackenzie: a pair of running shoes and his old black leather flight-style jacket from high school. The woman really didn't give a damn what people thought of her. Then again, it wasn't as if many people were going to see her out here in the dark. In her arms she had a wool blanket that he recognized as theirs.

"I was thinking," Harm explained looking away from her. The kerosene lantern that hung from one of the low rafters dimly lighted the wall across from where he was sitting, and he focused on an irregularity in the wood.

"Oh, no! Hit the deck!" Mac joked walking over slowly and sitting down on the aging bench next to him. That got a short chuckle from her older best friend. "Seriously, Harm. What are you thinking about?"

"Everything seems so different now," he mumbled looking down at his hands in his lap. There was no one besides Mac in the world that he would admit his inner thoughts and feelings to. She was the only person her trusted completely. "Flying is the one thing I've wanted to do forever--since I was a kid. You know that. It's what I trained my whole life to do. Now, I can't do it any more. The other guys on the ship...They have other things in their lives--wives, kids, families. I don't have that. All I have--had was flying."

"You have me," Sarah reminded him in a whisper. She was hesitant about bringing up the revelations she had made over the course of the last few days.

Harm turned to her with an unreadable expression on his face. He knew there was something different about her. They had a unique relationship. They were both aware of that fact. At times, it was like they were brother and sister fighting over the television remote or something equally stupid. Other times, things were red hot and awkward between them. They had only gone toward that flame once. They had kissed, and that threw Harm off a lot when it came to understanding "them". Somehow he had the feeling that they were heading there again.

"I do?" he replied.

"You do," she murmured, as their faces got closer. Before she could realize what was happening, his lips were on hers. Of course they had kissed before, but that had been her first time. She was inexperienced and unsure of what she was even doing. Now, though, she knew full well what a kiss between them could lead to.

The blanket she had been holding fell to the barn floor unnoticed, and her hands went to the back of his next trying to increase the delightful pressure. Harm responded in kind, pulling her to him and slipping his hands beneath the coat she wore. The jacket fell from her shoulders, and she maneuvered it off her to join the blanket on the floor.

Harm's hands traveled to her back where he found the dress's zipper. He began to inch it down, and feeling no resistance, he urged her to the ground on top of the discarded blanket and jacket. When there were no longer any barriers of clothing between them, they melted into one another with a passion like neither had ever experienced.

==========================================

Part Twenty by Audrey <ScullysKid83@juno.com
Rating: PG-13 (language, some abusive violence)

==========================================

10 DECEMBER 1982
2100 LOCAL
MACKENZIE HOUSE

"Damn it!"

Fifteen-year-old Mac didn't look up from the magazine she was pretending to read. Her father paced the living room, stopping every few steps to take a swill from the bottle in his right hand.

"Where the hell is she?" Her father demanded. When he got no answer from Mac, he ripped the magazine from her hands. "I asked you a question!"

"How the hell should I know?" Mac shot back, crossing her arms across her chest. She sunk back into the couch cushions but still couldn't escape the stink of alcohol on her father's breath.

He shoved the magazine at her, stalking off across the room to pull back the curtains again. Mac watched in silence. Her mother had left that morning to go grocery shopping. She had yet to return. Her father continued to pace, curse and drink. Finally, Mac was fed up with it.

"I'm going over to Eddie's." She said, tossing her magazine onto the coffee table and standing up.

"You sure as hell ain't!" Her father slurred from across the room. "I don't like that Eddie kid. And you're not goin' anywhere 'til your mother gets back." He took a drink. "Besides, you've got school tomorrow."

"I don't think she is coming back!" Mac exploded. "I think she's ditched out on us 'cause you're so damn drunk all the time!"

Her father wasn't the only one shocked at her words. Mac hadn't meant for them to be said aloud.

"What," Her father breathed, inching closer to her. "Did you say?"

"Nothing."

"Like hell it was nothing!" Her father exploded. "I work hard to get enough money to keep you fed and clothed and all you go off and call me a drunk?"

Mac didn't have enough time to react. His hand slammed hard into her face, Once. Twice. Three times. Mac cowered on the floor as he stood above her, shaking the bottle in his hand at her dangerously. For one insane moment, Mac thought he was going to use it on her. Instead he flung it to her right, where the bottle smashed against the wall spilling glass and alcohol on the floor.

"I'm going out!" He announced, stalking across the room to grab his coat and truck keys. "And you better damn well have that mess cleaned up by the time I get home!"

Mac remained still for a few moments after he had slammed the door shut behind him. She didn't move until she heard him peel off down the road.

Slowly, shakily, she stood. She caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror. Both cheeks were badly bruised from the force that her father had hit her. It would take a lot of make-up to cover it up. Or perhaps she'd just ditch school with Eddie tomorrow, give her face some time to heal. Yes, that was it. Taking a slow breath, she moved into the kitchen to grab the broom and dust pail to clean up the broken glass.

+ + +

2120 LOCAL
RABB FRONT PORCH

Harm was finishing up some work on the front porch, a small plate of his mother's chocolate chip cookies and a glass of milk nearby. He was home from Annapolis for the holidays and was taking the time off to hit the books and work ahead a bit. He looked up from double checking his work as he heard Mac's dad drive off down the road.

Harm knew things were far from harmonious at the Mackenzie house. Lately it seemed as if all they ever did over there was argue and drink. Setting aside his books, he decided to go check up on his friend.

All seemed quiet as he approached the front door. He knocked. No answer.

"Mac?"

There was nothing but silence on the other side of the door. But Harm saw a figure moving in the house.

"Mac? It's me, Harm. Open up."

After another few moments of silence, he heard her voice tell him that the door was unlocked. He pushed the door open and spotted Mac, her back to him, across the room picking up broken glass.

"Hey, could you get me some paper towels or something?" She asked, brushing some of the tiny glass slivers onto the dustpan. "I need to get this brandy cleaned up before he gets home."

Harm was quick to help and grabbed a handful of paper towels form the kitchen. "Where's your mom?" He inquired, walking back over to her. "I thought she usually cleaned up after him."

Mac turned around, and Harm froze at the sight of her face. In just those few minutes, the bruises had darkened to an almost black color.

"She's gone." Mac replied, taking the paper towels from her shocked friend's hand. "So he's, naturally, rather upset about the whole deal. And it didn't help matters when I told him that his drinking is probably the reason she's gone." She turned back to her task, mopping up the spilled alcohol.

"Mac..." Harm breathed, finally able to move again. "Are you alright? I mean, do you need some place to stay tonight 'cause I'm sure..."

"I'm fine." Her voice was clipped and cool. "It was my fault, really. I opened my big mouth and said things I hadn't meant for him to hear. He won't be back until morning anyway and I'll be at school by then."

"Are you sure?" Harm asked, settling a hand on her shoulder. "I mean, do you need to see a doctor or something?"

"I'm fine!" Mac snapped. "Just...leave me alone. Please."

"Mac, you're my friend. I care about you. I don't want you getting hurt."

Mac felt herself soften a bit, and she tried to offer Harm a reassuring smile. "I know. I know...But I'll be ok, really. I've survived for fifteen years. I'm tough."

Harm smiled, although it was a sad one. "Well...if you're sure."

Mac nodded. "Sure as the sun rises in the east." She hugged him. "But thanks Harm. If I do need anything, I'll let you know, alright?"

He hugged her back and held on for a moment. "Alright. Mom and I had lasagna tonight. I'll bring you some leftovers tomorrow." He felt her nod and released his hold on her. "See you tomorrow."

After he had left, Mac sank slowly onto the couch. Harm was real sweet, caring for her like he did. But he didn't know. He didn't know what it was like to live in a house like hers. Without a second thought, Mac picked up the phone and dialed a familiar number.

"Eddie? It's Mac...."


==========================================

Part Twenty-One by Pat (ssbpmn@aol.com)
Rated PG-13

==========================================

Charged with excitement and coupled with the eagerness and inexperience of having each other, it did not last long. Very shortly after it began they were spent, lying together wrapped in each others arms, willing their breathing to calm.

"You have me--always," she finally murmured into the crook of his neck. "No matter where we go, who else comes into our lives, you have me."

"I want that so much," he whispered, stroking hair back from her face. "Not only do I want that, but I need it. I need to know that I have that. I can always count on you being there."

"How long you planning to stay here?" she asked softly. "What did they give you for time?"

"Sixty days convalescence," he sighed. "Sixty days to decide what I want to do with my career, which right at the moment means about as much as that manure pile out back."

"Harm stop that right now," she scolded. "My God you're still the same person. So you can't fly at night. Big deal. You can instruct if that's what you want, or you can retrain. As smart as you are, with the grades you made, you can be whatever you want to be still."

He shrugged his shoulders as he held her. "Yeah I know. I've even given some thought to going to law school. JAG. Did you know that my dad told my mom once that he was going to retire at twenty and use his GI benefits to go to law school?"

"No. Amazing, because I sometimes think about that too," she murmured, her head still resting in the crook of his neck.

"Well I've got sixty days to report to NavPerCen for reassignment and for right now I don't want to talk about that. You and I, here together, that's what I want to talk about."

"Or not," he added as his lips found hers again. "Maybe that's the problem with us. Too much talking, not enough loving."

"Again?"

"Again," he nodded, adding, "If you want."

"Oh yeah I want Flyboy. I can't get too much of you."


==========================================

Part Twenty-Two by Rising Sun (jagrslc@yahoo.com)
Rated: G

==========================================


HALLOWEEN 1983
2107 LOCAL - EDDIE’S HOUSE

Let’s Stay Together by Tina Turner was pulsating from the house as Mac approached. She rang the doorbell and was about to head for the back door when Count Dracula opened it and grinned widely.

"Morticia Adaams! You look divine!" He said.

Mac grinned at her friend Eddie with Harm away the friendship between the two had strengthened. "Those teeth look rather sharp there Count." She waltzed in and was emerced into an alternate universe of goblins, ghouls, vampires and creatures that could only reside in the imagination of teenagers.

The party was going to be a hit.

+ + +

TWO HOURS LATER

By the time Mac had waded her way to the punch bowl the bowl was punching back. She may like the taste of alcohol but Mac was not dumb, and drinking at the party was not part of her modus opperandi. Eddie on the other had was already home and could drink his father’s entire stash should he so desire.

With a virgin cola in hand she went in search of fresh non-pulsating air. She found it at the swing set in the back yard set up for the last of Eddie’s siblings.

Mac watched as a cute young man approached her. They were a match. Gomez Adaams spoke to her "Cara mia." He held out his hand.

"Gomez?" She smiled at the young man but she didn’t know him. That didn’t take away from the fact that he was endearing.

"Sí." He hiccupped and suddenly sat at her feet.

She chuckled "Not a good way to introduce yourself mon cher." She looked down at him.

"French! Tish! You spoke French!" And he attempted to execute the rest of the ritual of kissing up the arm, but failed.

Mac sniggered and easily pushed his head back. "What is your name?"

"Gomez Adaams!" He declared.

Mac sighed. "When you are in disguise… what name do you use?"

"Oh... Christopher Ragle everyone calls me Chris" He said and bowed where he sat. "At your service."

"You don’t go to our school." She told him and hoped he could provide a coherent response.

"I go to a different school but Eddie invited me." He managed to explain.

"I see." Mac replied, she stood as her clock kicked in it was time to head home breaking curfew was a dangerous activity at the Mackenzie house.

"You are leaving Cara mia." He wailed.

"Oui." She smiled and walked away leaving Señor Adaams wailing after her "I will find you! Never fear!" he fell back and passed out.

"More than likely I’ll find you." She thought as she headed home.

==========================================

HALLOWEEN 1983
2107 LOCAL – ANNAPOLIS

"Rabb?" No response

"Rabb?" Again silence.

"God damn it! Rabb!" Jack Keeter finally poked the twenty year old in the ribs cage.

"Huh?"

"Oh for heaven’s sake Rabb. You look like you’ve seen a ghost!"

"Right! I’m back and the next round is on me." The words died on Sturgis Turner’s lips as he froze in place. "Mac?"

Keeter groaned. "You would think that the two of you had never seen a woman before!"

"Women I have seen." Sturgis replied and sat. "I can assure you that this one never."

"He said that too." The woman chuckled "In fact that is all he’s said."

"What was that?" Sturgis asked.

"Mac. Who’s Mac?"

Sturgis straightened his uniform and replied with a question. "And your name ma’am?"

"Diane Schonke"

The resemblance of this freshman to Mac was uncanny. Harm finished his beer in one.

==========================================


1709 LOCAL
THE OLD MILL

Fifteen-year-old Mac lay in the straw; beside her was Eddie. For once they were not drinking. Well not yet.

"Mac?"

"Mmm?"

"What the hell is that!" Eddied could take it no more as he looked at what should be a punching bag but really couldn’t be.

"A punching bag."

Eddie snorted, "I seriously doubt that!"

"It meets my needs." She replied.

"Which are?" A voice asked.

Mac and Eddie sat up abruptly. "Chris!" Eddie squealed and stood to greet his friend. "You found the place!"

"Easily." Chris replied his eyes glued to Mac.

Eddie introduced them. "Mac meet …"

"Gomez Adaams." She finished.

Chris frowned then his face lit up with the memory. He fell to his knees. "Mortisha! I thought I’d lost you!"

Mac chuckled.

"You brought the stuff?" Eddie asked.

"As promised." Chris produced a brown paper bag and spoke to Mac. "So what need could that bag possibly fill in you?"

She felt as if they had stopped talking about the bag but answered anyway. "My dad taught me self defense I use the bag to practice."

"Oh this is going to be the making of a beautiful friendship!" Eddie declared as he examined the two bottles Chris had brought with him.

Still looking at Mac Chris replied, "I sure hope so."

She blushed.

==========================================

Part Twenty-Three by Melissa (MelMarie612@aol.com)
Rating: PG

==========================================

JUST AFTER SUNRISE
RABB FAMILY FARM (OLD BARN)
BELLEVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA

The first sensation Mac felt when she woke up was that of the morning sun in her eyes. The next was the warmth of the hard body pressed up against her back under the blanket. She refused to open her eyes and have it all taken away from her since dreams only stay as long as you sleep. In her life, a feeling such as the one she felt didn't come during daylight hours.

"Morning, Sarah." A husky voiced mumbled into her hair. Her eyes opened and she smiled. She hadn't been dreaming after all.

"How did you know I was awake?"

"You stopped moving. You've always shifted in your sleep," Harm mumbled back pulling her closer so that she rolled to face him. He leaned over and captured her lips with his own. The kiss was slow and not demanding like those the night before. Not that he didn't want her as much now as he did then, but because he felt no need to hurry.

"And you talk," Mac informed him as their lips parted. She smiled sweetly at him.

"I do not."

"Do too."

Harm pinned her down under him and closed his lips over hers effectively rendering her unable to speak. Their hands traveled along each other’s bodies as they melted into one another once again.

==========================================

1230 HOURS LOCAL
RABB FAMILY FARM
BELLEVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA

"I didn't hear you two come in last night," Sara commented to the young couple that walked into the kitchen keeping a respectable distance between themselves but never taking their eyes from the one another. She smiled a loving--and knowing--smile at them and gestured toward the table that was set for lunch. "Or go out this morning."

"We were quiet," Mac lied knowing full well that Grams wasn't buying it. If she and Harm were any more obvious, they'd be all over each other.

"Uh huh. A salad for Harmon and my special beef stew for Sarah," Sara said placing their food down in front of them. There are veggies on the table and chips and crackers in the cupboard if you're hungry when you're done. I'm going out to the porch to read--it's such a beautiful day. Enjoy, my dears." With that, she left the room.

"She knows," Harm decided.

"She definitely knows."

==========================================

2305 HOURS LOCAL
RABB FAMILY FARM (HARM'S ROOM)
BELLEVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA

"What does this mean, Harm?" Mac whispered to the man who held her tight against his bare chest. He didn't respond. "Harm?" She put her head up to see his face. He was relaxed and his eyes were closed. He was sleeping she realized. Sighing, she laid her head back down on his chest and was lulled into a peaceful rest by the steady beating of his heart.

==========================================


Part Twenty-Four by Audrey (scullyskid83@juno.com)
Rating: PG - language

==========================================


DAY AFTER THANKSGIVING, 1984
MACKENZIE RESIDENCE
0945 LOCAL

Seventeen-year-old Mac stretched out on the sofa, flipping through the morning paper. Thanksgiving had been a peaceful holiday with her father surprising her by cooking a rather nice Thanksgiving dinner. Granted, it had been small and some of the food had looked less than prefect, but they both had enjoyed it and chatted companionably well into the evening hours.

Harm had called to wish her a happy Thanksgiving, apologizing for not being able to come down for the holiday. He'd been loaded down with work and had told her that he and a few friends were going to celebrate by going out to dinner.

Sighing, Mac folded the paper and set it on the end table for her father to read after he got up. A quick glance at the clock told her that it was time to go and meet Eddie and Chris at the old mill - the main hangout of the trio. She ducked into her father's room to tell him that she'd be out for the morning, and then left the house.

+ + +

THE OLD MILL
1000 LOCAL

"Took you long enough."

A charming grin crossed Chris' face as Mac approached. He was sitting beside Eddie and they were each holding a beer bottle. Eddie offered one to Mac, which she refused by telling him that it was too early to start drinking.

"There's no such thing as too early." Eddie commented.

Chris joined him in a laugh and then turned his attention to Mac. "Hey, guess what? I got my own place!"

Mac's eyes widened in surprise as she sat between the two boys. "Really?"

Eddie nodded. "You've got to see it, Mac! It is awesome! Think of all the parties we'll be able to have. The keggers, the beer busts..."

Chris and Mac exchanged an amused look as Eddie continued on. Chris finally ended Eddie's ramblings by throwing an empty beer bottle at him.

"Anyway," Chris began, turning his attention to Mac. "I was thinking..."

"Dangerous habit." Mac quipped. Eddie chuckled.

Chris rolled his eyes, grinning at her. "I thought you might like to move in with me."

Mac stared at Chris in shock. Move in with him? Hell, they'd never even kissed! They were... friends. Close friends but friends nonetheless. From the way Eddie choked on his swig of alcohol, Chris had not brought up the idea with him either.

"Awfully sudden, don't you think?" Mac inquired.

"You'd get away from your dad." Chris pointed out.

True. But lately the relationship between father and daughter had been going so well. Mac watched as Eddie struggled to his feet, murmuring something about "nature calling" and stumbled off. Her eyes remained fixed on his retreating form until Chris reached out to clasp her hand.

Mac's eyes locked on their interlinked hands, a warm feeling spreading through her. Her gaze drifted up until her eyes met his...

They were pulling apart, breathless, a mere seconds later. Mac's head spun and she couldn't recall how she had come to be kissing the young man before her but it had happened. And it had been wonderful.

"Wow." Chris voiced her own sentiments with that single word.

His hands remained loosely on her shoulders, her hands pressed gently against his chest. Mac could feel her heart fluttering about inside her chest like a nervous butterfly, wondering if he'd kiss her again. He did.

"Whoa...get a room." Eddie had returned to see his friends embracing and although he feigned disinterest, deep inside he was cheering. They needed each other. They were perfect for each other.

"So, whatcha say?" Chris asked finally. "Wanna move in with me?"

Oh. Right. "Chris," Mac began. "It's not that I don't want to but..." She paused, searching for the words. "It's just that...things between Dad and I have been going so great lately. I don't want to lose that."

For a second, Chris looked slightly hurt. Behind him, Eddie frowned. Of course -now- she would choose to stick around with her dad. But Chris nodded.

"That's cool." He said finally. "But the offer will always be open to you."

Mac smiled. "Thanks." She wanted to kiss him again, but with Eddie standing right there it seemed too weird. "I better get going. Dad'll be wondering where I am."

"See ya, Mac." Eddie said, waving a hand dismissively as he sank back onto the ground and tipped his half-empty bottle back.

Mac started to rise, but Chris tugged on her hand, pulling her down again. He glanced quickly over at Eddie, then back at Mac. "I love you, Mac." He whispered.

Startled, Mac didn't know what to say. He – loved - her? At a loss for words, she gave him a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth and then left.

"You say somethin', dude?" Eddie drawled.

"Nothin'." Chris replied. "Toss me a bottle."

+ + +

MACKENZIE RESIDENCE
2220 LOCAL

Mac snuggled on the couch with a blanket, the only light in the house coming from the television. The local station was showing "The Wizard of Oz" and Mac found herself smiling as Dorothy danced down the yellow brick road with Toto and the Scarecrow. When they had been younger, she and Harm had danced through his house one day singing the songs from the movie. His mom probably still had the pictures, too.

The sound of a car door shutting in the front yard pulled her attentions away from the movie as her father entered the house. She knew instantly that he was drunk. Again.

Joe squinted at the high-pitched voice belonging to the fictional Dorothy. "Damn it, Sarah." He growled. "Turn that thing off!"

"But Dad..." Mac protested as her father marched across the room to hit the power button on the television. Angered, she got up and hit the button again and the characters once again danced across the screen.

"Didn't you hear me?" Joe asked from across the room. "Turn that damn thing off! You're too old to watch that crap anyway!"

"I'm seventeen years old!" Mac replied. "I can watch whatever I please!"

"Not in -my- house you can't!" Joe yelled, stumbling to his feet. "Now turn it off or go to your room!"

"No!" Damn it, why couldn't she watch it? She hadn't seen "The Wizard of Oz" in its entirety since Harm had been here and she really liked the movie.

"Sarah..." Joe's shook a finger at her and addressed her in a voice that held a warning tone to it.

"No, damn it!" Mac was frustrated. He'd been home barely two minutes and they were already in a fierce argument. And over a movie, no less.

Drunken and angry, Joe's reactions were hard to predict. The first swing of his hand caught Mac across the cheek, but she was quick and avoided the next one.

Tears burned in her eyes as she watched her father's rage build. "Fine!" She yelled finally, stomping out of the room in defeat. She heard Joe's curses as he turned off the television and flopped onto the couch. Mac locked herself in her room, angry tears spilling down her cheeks. She felt like a caged animal ready to strike at any moment. She grabbed her pillow and swung it blindly across the room where it knocked her phone from her bedside table.

Pausing, Mac looked at the fallen phone. Chris. If she moved in with him she could watch whatever she wanted, whenever she wanted. She wouldn't have to take any more crap from her father. Her fingers had dialed Eddie's house before she knew it. After getting Chris' new number from him, she called Chris and everything was arranged in a span of ten minutes.

Quickly tossing some clothes and her most valuable things into a suitcase, Mac waited until she heard Chris' truck pull up out front. Her father looked at her, bewildered, as she marched out into the family room with her luggage.

"Where the hell do ya think you're goin'?" He slurred, beer bottle in hand.

"I'm moving in with Chris." Mac announced, sounding almost giddy.

Joe sputtered angrily, telling her that she had no right to make decisions like that without informing him. She simply marched out the front door and clambered into her boyfriends' truck. As they drove off she could make out the angry form of Joe Mackenzie cursing and waving his fists at them from the doorway.

==========================================

Part Twenty-Five by Pat (SSbpMN@aol.com)

==========================================


RABB FARM

"Harmon if you wear the paint off that porch floor I swear you're going to repaint it," Grams yelled from the kitchen window, shaking her head at the same time. Her grandson was pacing, as he always did when he was anxious.

The kitchen timer sent her scurrying back to the kitchen just as the cloud of dust at the end of the driveway signified that whom he was awaiting had arrived.

"Hi Beautiful," he breathed when Mac stepped from the car into his arms. "I've been waiting for hours."

"Sorry, late start and bad traffic. OK what's so urgent there Sailor?"

"It's come. My orders. My approval. It's come through. I'm going to transfer to the JAG Corps starting Monday for orientation and then my enrollment in law school is a done deal."

"YES," she squealed and threw her arms around his neck.

He lifted her off her feet and swung her around in his excitement. "They called me yesterday," he panted. "I was starting to panic because my leave was up and I didn't want to be stuck at some desk job someplace just killing time like the washed up aviator I am so when then called. . .well relief doesn't half cover it."

"Harm I'm really really happy for you," she laughed and hugged him once more.

"And I know you're going to knock 'em dead. There's nothing you can't do when you put your mind to it. And cut out that washed up aviator crappola anyway. You're still a member of the US Navy, and you'll be as good a lawyer as you were a pilot."

"I hope so," he gasped and and turned serious.

"OK Flyboy you're fading out on me," she said in concern. "What's wrong?"

He shrugged sheepishly and took her hand. "Walk with me."

Following the old familiar path to the river, they walked in silence for a while until the sound of the water welcomed them.

"Talk to me Harm," she whispered.

"In flight school, through all my training, I always had to be the best," he said finally, looking deeply into her dark eyes. "Now I'm going into a totally different setting. These people are good. Not good in a cockpit which is more nerve and instinct, but good with books and what if I'm not."

"What if you stop worrying," she smiled, touching his face with gentle hands.

"Harm you are the smartest person I know. The smartest person I've ever met, and not just book smart but common sense smart too, and that's going to make you a great lawyer."

"You really think so?"

"Put it this way. If I was charged with murder, I'd trust you with my life," she laughed, brushing her fingertips along his jawline.

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. You can do this Harm."

"You really think so?"

"Isn't that why you had me come up here this weekend. So that I could tell you that?"

"Well yeah," he admitted. "I needed to hear that. But I also needed to have some of this." His lips found hers a second later, and a second after that she was lost in his arms.


==========================================

Part Twenty-Six by Rising Sun (jagrslc@yahoo.com)
Rated PG-13
AN: There is a lesson here and it ain’t don’t drink and drive!

==========================================

ONE WEEK LATER - 1109 LOCAL
CHRIS’ PLACE

Mac awoke and instantly wished that she hadn’t. She had the mother of all hangovers. She peeped through one eye and immediately closed it. The slight shaft of light threatened to shatter her brain. All thoughts of staying put made a U-turn as she felt the need to heave. She barely made it to the bath in time. She threw up and remained seated on the floor. She groaned in worship at the porcelain God and vowed never to leave its side.

She was miserable.

She was hung over.

She could barely remember the night before.

She was sore. Sore?

Mac focused. The action pulled another groan from her. It was coming back. She’d slept with Chris. If she remembered, the logic was that it was time she became woman to his man. The only evidence she had that she had actually gone through with it was that she hurt in all the right places. Mother had not warned her about her first time or even the day after. Maybe it was better that way. Oh God! She thought I hope I’m not pregnant! Harm would kill her. All her plans to join him at Annapolis flashed by her.

A tear rolled down her cheek.

She couldn’t even remember her first time. Crossing over from girl to woman should have been better than a drunken roll.

Where did it happen?

The Mill?

The Car?

Was it really with Chris?

==========================================

Part Twenty-Seven by Melissa (MelMarie612@aol.com)

AN: I don't know how long it would take for Harm to start class, but to make this work; it had to be a few months. I hope everyone will forgive any inaccuracies.

==========================================


A FEW MONTHS AFTER PART 25
HARM'S APARTMENT
WASHINGTON, DC

His back ached, his vision was blurring, and the only thing he really wanted to do was sleep, but if he didn't want to start off law school on a bad foot, he had to study. He threw the text book onto the coffee table and took a look around his new place. It was small and cheap which made it the perfect place for him. It wasn't a home, of course. It was just a place to sleep until he got everything together. He would have a home someday. A home he would return to after a long days work. A place where a woman he loved with his whole heart would be. A place where he would find his children would be playing in the yard.

"That'll be the day," he chuckled to the empty apartment. He felt like a kid studying like he was. After he got through flight school, he never thought he'd have to hit the books again. It wasn't like he had a fifteen year old's immature hatred of it, but that didn't stop it from being tedious.

"Only three more years," he reminded himself. The reminder only made him feel even less hopeless. He stretched out and reached for his beer on the end table. After flying F-14's for a living, studying to be a lawyer seemed...well, boring.

The phone ringing broke his thought.

"Hello?"

"Hey, honey, how's school been going?" a faked high-pitched distinctly male voice breathed.

"Hey, Keet. Watch it...I can still kick your ass," Harm laughed.

"Dream on. You could *NEVER* kick my ass," Keeter said in his normal tone.

==========================================

Part Twenty Eight by Rising Sun (jagrslc@yahoo.com)

==========================================

THANKSGIVING 1985
CHRIS AND MAC’S PLACE

Thanksgiving had marked one year of Mac and Chris living together.

The first few weeks had been difficult. She had missed her home. True it wasn’t much but it was home and she missed it, but that had worn of and she had settled into the new place. As promised the three musketeers had existed in a drunken haze.

Chris had got a part time job at the local car wash, she at Mac Donald’s and Eddie and Wall Mart. They drank their way through most of the wages.

Chris had finally quit school and one was more likely to find Mac at home drunk than at school. Her grades had fallen and her graduating was in doubt.

There was a knock on the door. "Get that will ya!" Mac screeched. There was no answer then she remembered that Chris was at work. She staggered to the door.

She opened it and began "No Jehovah’s Witnesses wanted here!" She gripped the door for support. There was no reply. She raised her head and looked at the tall man. She squinted "Harm?" She slurred.

Harm stepped into the apartment. He picked his way in. "Mac?" He was horrified at what he saw but managed to control his voice.

[FLASH BACK]

As she approached on her bicycle she saw the familiar form of Harm. In one fluid motion the bike came to a halt, Mac jumped off and she flung herself on her best friend.

"Hey!" he jumped.

"Harm I was worried! I couldn’t find you anywhere!" The eleven year old wailed.

"I’ve been around squirt." He said.

"I’ll be twelve next month so watch who you call squirt." Came her automatic response.

+ + +

He followed her. "Mac you’re crying." He was shocked. Mac didn’t usually cry. He felt bad that he was the cause. He reached over and wiped first one then the other cheek. She looked at him and their eyes locked. By mutual unspoken consent Harm leaned in and pressed his lips to hers.

[END OF FLASH BACK]


Sitting at the base of the tree and for the first time since he’d learnt of his father’s disappearance Harm cried

==========================================

NOVEMBER 13, 1985
RABB’S RESIDENCE

Trish picked up the phone "Rabb’s Residence."

"Hey mom!" Harm said.

"Darling how are you?"

"Mom have you heard from Mac?" He sounded worried. "Today is her birthday and I called but there was no answer."

Trish took a deep breath. She’d been postponing telling her son Mac’s latest news. Now there was no dodging it. "Mac left town."

"SHE WHAT!"

"She left town." There was more. "But before she left she married Chris."

There was stunned silence. Finally "When?" He whispered. "Will she be back?"

"Last week." Now she was worried. "I head it was for her honeymoon so I assume she’ll be back. You ok son?"

His voice was so soft she hardly heard him "Yeah mom. See you for the holidays." He hung up.


==========================================

Part Twenty-Nine by Pat (SSbpMN@aol.com)

==========================================

21 DECEMBER 1985

"Harm you look good," Trish greeted him happily. The house smelled of gingerbread and pine and Christmas music played in the background. "A man in a uniform. Of course you look exactly like your dad. And that's hard but that's not ever going to change. Go speak to your grandmother, who of course is in the den knitting and watching her stories."

"Yes ma'am," he answered automatically and walked down the familiar hallway.

"Grams I'm here," he called, pushing the partly open door more fully open. The TV blasted and she nearly jumped from her chair when he put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

"Harmon about damn time," she laughed. "I was afraid they were going to keep you over Christmas."

"No way. Miss Christmas dinner here? Not likely. Hey I didn't mean to interrupt your story time. I'll change and then I'm going to take out the snow mobile OK. I've been on that bus for hours and I desperately need some air and space."

After securing his mother's approval, he took off. There was enough snow on the ground to make the experience more than wonderful. The next best thing to being in the cockpit of a Tomcat.

Almost as if he was on autopilot, he ended up at Mac's old place, wondering if she and Chris were living there now. His answer came in the form of something new in the driveway, an old trailer, looking like if it was moved more than a foot it would simply cave in. Playing a hunch he knocked at the door and sure enough Mac herself opened it, clutching her bathrobe tightly around herself.

"Hi," he managed, startled by her appearance. Her hair hung in strings, her face hollowed at the cheekbones, and the robe that seemingly went around her twice dwarfed her painfully thin body.

"Harm," she whispered, and tears almost at once came to her eyes. "I'm glad to see you Sailor. You look good. Come in; excuse the mess. I haven't had a chance to clean up today and Chris took off with some of his biker buddies for a couple days last night--they were out until about three this morning drinking."

She stepped aside and he walked in, letting his eyes adjust to the darkness after the brightness of the sun and snow. "You want a beer? I'm sure there's plenty left."

"Uh...no I don't think so," he frowned.

"So the Navy's treating you pretty good is it?"

"Yeah I like it. I'm staying with it. I'm fourth in....My God Mac your face. What happened to you? No don't answer that I know. That SOB hit you didn't he." It was a statement not a question.

She hung her head in shame. "I make him mad sometimes."

"You make me mad a lot of the time but I don't haul off and smack you," he exploded. "What the hell is the matter with this guy? And while you're answering that tell me what the hell is the matter with you for letting him do that."

"He just gets upset with me like when I don't move fast enough to get him a beer or when he wants sex and I don't," she screamed back through her tears. "If you were any kind of a friend you wouldn't make me talk about this stuff. I can't help it."

He was about to scream back that she could in fact help it when instead he simply pulled her into his arms, stroking her hair and holding her to him. Her robe gapped open, revealing the soft curve of her breast and he drew in his breath sharply, his desire to make love to her becoming overwhelming. "Sarah," he breathed just before his mouth closed over hers. "Sarah I... we can't. No we can't. You're married."

"Harm please. Please for the next little while," she panted. "He's gone. He won't be back any time soon. My dad's gone too, went hunting or something. I need you Harm. I've missed you so much."

"If you missed me that damn bad why did you marry that jerk?" he demanded.


==========================================

Part Thirty by Rising Sun (jagrslc@yahoo.com)

==========================================


2349 LOCAL
PROM NIGHT – JUNE 1986

By what could only be termed a miracle Sarah "Mac" Mackenzie-Regale, Christopher "Chris" Regale and Edward "Eddie" Mathews graduated from their respective High Schools. Mac’s grades had been so outstanding that the slump in the final weeks had dented her average but hadn’t annihilated them.

It was prom night and her husband was out of town, for which she had thanked every God she knew. The boss at the carwash had taken him to a convention in Vegas. Or so she thought he said.

She stood in front of the full-length mirror and examined her handiwork. It had taken a great amount of concentration to get her makeup on as her hand shook so badly but she’d managed to get it done. She’d cut her hair into a bob and she wore a bright red sleeve less floor length dress. The dress complimented every curve that she had and the split flashed her shapely legs with every step she took. It was also backless. If she had any doubt as to the wisdom of blowing her whole paycheck on the dress Eddie’s reaction was worth it. "Wow!!! Oh Wow!!" He gushed. "You cut your hair."

==========================================

Part Thirty-One by Lissa (MelMarie612@aol.com )

***AN: Before you flame me, read the entire thing.***

==========================================

HOTEL ROOM
UNKNOWN LOCATION

Mac looked around the foreign room wondering half-heartedly how she came to be there. She didn't remember ever leaving her office, but somehow, she was in a hotel room like those that could be found almost everywhere. A window with dark brown curtains, a queen size bed covered in a maroon quilt, an old wooden dresser and mirror, a chair situated in the corner...Just like every hotel room that she had ever stayed in. Well the good ones anyway.

She began to explore the room hoping to get some clue as to where she was. The thought of looking out the window came to mind for a second, but it quickly went away for some unknown reason. She approached the mirror hesitantly and looked up at her reflection. What she saw shocked her.

"Harm?" she turned around quickly. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see you. We really need to talk," Harm told her sitting down on the bed with a soft smile on his lips.

"We do." With a smile on her lips in return, she went to sit with him.

What happened before..."

"Yeah?"

"It shouldn't happen again." He looked straight into her eyes as he said that.

Her smile faded. "What?"

"It was a heat of the moment type thing. I don't think we should put much stock into it."

"Thing!?" her high pitched voice shrieked.

"This is exactly why I didn't want to have to do this." Harm shook his head and stood up. He walked over to the dresser and leaned up against it looking at her again.

"What is 'this'?" Tears were beginning to come to her eyes.

"I just wanted to say that what we did...It wasn't exactly what I thought it would be. I don't want it to happened again."

Against her will, tears began to run down Mac's cheeks. She couldn't be hearing this. "What?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

"I still want us to be friends. Just friends." With that, he walked out of the room. The click of the door echoed through the room with a stony sense of finality.

Mac fell to the bed unable to keep her sobs within herself. She cried out Harm's name to lessen the pain that had claimed her soul.

***

MAC'S OFFICE

"Harm!" Mac's scream echoed in her office as her head came up from its position on her desk. A dream. It was just a dream. No...It was a nightmare. Harm would never say those things.

But why hadn't he called?

==========================================

Part Thirty-Two by Audrey (scullyskid83@juno.com )
Rated: PG

==========================================

AUGUST 1986

Mac's life was turned upside down.

She had spent hours upon hours after the accident being quizzed on the events by everyone from police to paramedics. She'd had to spend a night in the hospital, where doctors quizzed her. Well-meaning friends, neighbors and teachers stopped by to visit. They wanted to know what had happened. Her father had wanted to know. She couldn't remember.

Upon release from the hospital, Mac had moved back in with her father. He didn't play the role of the concerned parent, though. Instead, he yelled at her. Asked her how she could be so stupid. Eddie was dead, he said, and it was her fault.

Her fault.

She spent days in the house, not daring to venture out. But she finally had to escape her father. Not that she got much escape though. Everywhere she went she was confronted with people wanting to know how she was, if she remembered anything. She'd go home again, hide in her room. She drank. Oh, how she drank. She missed Eddie terribly. Chris never entered her thoughts. Her life was an endless hell.

And then her savior arrived in the form of her Uncle Matt. He packed her a few things and they left. Never again would Sarah Mackenzie see that house.

+ + +

AUGUST 1986
RABB HOUSEHOLD
1900 LOCAL

Ring!

Trish grabbed a dishtowel to dry her hands, quickly moving to answer the phone. "Hello?"

"Hey Mom!"

"Harm!" Trish's face lit up. "How are you doing?"

"Great." Harm replied. Trish could hear voices in the background. "I'm making some dinner for a couple of the guys. Their culinary skills are severely lacking."

Trish laughed. "That's wonderful, dear."

"Mom? Did Mac move again?" Harm inquired. "I've tried calling her but I can't get through."

He doesn't know. Trish had thought that her son would have found out about the accident by now. Did her son and Sarah Mackenzie really not talk all that much anymore? "Harm," She began slowly. "Mac was in an accident."

Harm instantly feared the worst. "No! When? Is she all right? What happened?"

"A week or so ago. She was shaken up pretty badly." Trish replied. "I visited her in the hospital. She had cuts, bruises..." She paused. "Her friend Eddie was killed."

"Oh no." Harm breathed. Mac must be crushed! He knew that she and Eddie were close friends, and he'd even been jealous of the younger boy a time or two. Dead..."Where is she? I'd like to talk to her. I can probably get a flight out there in a few..."

"Harm." Trish interrupted. "Mac's Uncle came and got her. I don't know where he took her."

"Is she coming back?"

Trish sighed. "From what I've heard...I don't think so."

There was a long silence on the other end of the line. When Harm finally spoke, his voice was soft. "I..uh..I gotta go, Mom. I'll talk to you later. If you hear anything..."

"I'll call." Trish promised.

"Yeah." She heard him sigh. "Tell Frank I said hi." He said. "And… I'll call you later. Bye, Mom."

"Bye, sweetie."

Trish heard the line go dead and slowly pulled the phone from her ear. Poor Harm. Shaking her head sadly, she hung up the phone and returned to washing the dishes.

+ + +

RED ROCK MESA, AZ
SEPTEMBER 1986

"You're an alcoholic."

Mac reacted with a blank stare. They'd been down this road before during the week. She shook her head, instantly denying it. "No." Her father, HE was an alcoholic. Perhaps she drank now and again but she wasn't an alcoholic!

Matt fixed her with a steady gaze. "Sarah, as much as I hate it to be true..."

"It's NOT true!" Mac shot back, fixing an angry glare on him. Why did he keep coming back to this? All week he had been lecturing her and she'd had about enough of it. She needed a drink badly. She was irritable, stressed and on-edge. And the craving was killing her.

Matt's voice was calm and steady as he spoke. "All right." He said, watching Mac perch on a nearby rock. He moved over to her, taking her shoulders in his hands and staring right into her eyes. "You look me in the eyes and you tell me that you're not. Tell me that you weren't drunk the night of the prom."

Eddie. Mac's version blurred with sudden tears - tears that had refused to come earlier in the week. She had fought Uncle Matt all week on the alcohol subject. She would have run by now if there had been a place to run to. But there wasn't. So she had argued with him, cursed him and ignored him. But not now. With a sob, she collapsed into his arms.

"I didn't mean to kill him!" Mac sobbed.

Matt hugged her in return. "Of course not, Sarah." He assured her. "It was an accident. Sadly, yes, it cost Eddie his life. But if he had been the one driving what would have happened? Would it have been you that died?

Mac had no answer, save for a choked sob. What was happening to her? She missed the days of her childhood when, besides her angry father, her biggest troubles could be solved with an ice cream cone. But now...? Her drunken ignorance had cost her close friend his life. It had cost her own life as well, albeit in a different way.

"I don't know what to do, Uncle Matt." She whispered finally, a bit frightened of what her future held. How could she make a living? Who would hire an alcoholic? Surely the Marines or the Navy wouldn't want her now.

Matt's arms squeezed her gently before he pulled back from her, staring into her eyes. "It'll be alright, Sarah." He promised. "But you have to stop drinking. Alcohol kills. You know that now. Alcoholics need to hit a "rock bottom" before they realize that what they've got - alcoholism – is a disease. Perhaps Eddie's death..."

"...Is my rock bottom." Mac finished softly. She sighed, wiping a few stray tears from her cheeks. She turned her gaze towards the slowly setting sun. The Arizona sky was a brilliant array of reds, oranges and yellows, with pinks and lavender's beginning to take over. She would never get Eddie back.

From behind her, Matt's voice broke the silence that had begun to stretch between them. "It's not going to be easy at first." He said. "You're already having the cravings. But you learn to fight them. To ignore those cravings."

That would be hard. The cravings already seemed to want to consume her. But she would fight. For Eddie, she would fight it.

"I'm ready." She announced, standing up and turning to face her uncle. And so it began.


==========================================

Part Thirty-Three by Rising Sun (jagrslc@yahoo.com )

==========================================

TWO DAY"S LATER
RED ROCK MESA - ARIZONA

Matt O’Hara had warned her that she was about face the bowel of hell, the bottom of the pit as it were. That this was the end of the road. If she did not stop her alcohol consumption she’d get mentally ill or die a slow, painful death.

Mac didn’t need to be told twice. Faced with Eddie’s death, and Chris’ abandonment she was ready to change.

Matt had not exaggerated the next two months would make or break her. She’d either walk out of the mesa on her own steam or die with the effort. By the time Matt got her up into the mountains and settled into a cave the battle was already raging. Mac had been drinking on and off for over ten years and constantly for the last three. Her dependence on the liquid was complete and without the crutch she was collapsing. She was in no condition to appreciate the result of three hundred and fifty million years of tireless erosion that had produced the dramatic rock formations of canyons, buttes and spires that towered at almost one thousand feet above sea level. She was barely aware of the world around her.

She had entered what was called the stabilization period of recovery where she was detoxifying brought on by the abstinence. As painful as it was Matt drove her. "You need to eat Mac."

She shook her head, licked her lips. "I need a drink Uncle Mat!"

"Why honey? Why?" His heart went out to her. "Think Mac focus why do you need that drink? Go past the need of your body. Why do you need that prop?"

The bead of sweat on her brow intensified. She swallowed hard. "I need it!"

"WHY MAC!"

"BECAUSE!"

"NOT GOOD ENOUGH!" He roared that more gently "Not good enough. Now why do you need that drink?"

"Mom left." She sobbed. "Harm left. Chris and Eddie left." The crying turned into a wail "People leave me Uncle Matt!!!"

"I’m here sweet pea and I’m not leaving. When I do you will walk away with me. Come you need to eat." And so it continued with Matt holding up a mirror to Mac’s soul and she having to face it.

+ + +

The day finally came that she was able to keep food down. She’d been vomiting everything that she had swallowed.

"There has to be a better way." She groaned.

"You think?" Matt asked. "That was only the first hurdle."

Mac was sitting on the floor of the cave with her back against the wall. "Uncle Matt?"

"Yes Mac?"

"I’m an alcoholic." She confessed simply.

"Yes you are." Came his just as simple response.

"It took Eddie’s death for it to hit home. Thanks for coming to get me."

"You are welcome. I love you kiddo and I’d do it all again." He assured her.

"I think I can do this."

"I know you can."

+ + +

Matt returned from gathering firewood and knew something was wrong. Mac was out cold on the cave floor.

He kneeled by her side "Mac?" He shook her. "MAC!!!"

She groaned and the whiff of alcohol hit him. This time he groaned. He checked his bag. "Damn it!!" He cursed. He’d brought rubbing alcohol as part of the first aid kit and Mac had drunk it!

He held her close and rocked her. "Oh Mac!" He sighed "How bad you were I didn’t realize!"

They had to start all over again.

+ + +

Over the weeks the two had struggled with Mac’s demons and Mac was finally human enough to be aware of the grandeur that surrounded her. This day the two were at Cathedral Rock.

"Makes you think doesn’t it." She said as she watched the works of God.

"About?"

"That there is life out there. That for every action there is a reaction that I must accept that from this time forward I can no longer drink... That sort of stuff."

"Profound."

"Well when faced with the handiwork of God." She waived her hand outward. "That tends to happen."

"I’m proud of you Mac." Her Uncle said.

She smiled with embarrassment. "I realized what you have been saying is true. I heard you but it really hit home when I drank the rubbing alcohol. The consequences of my continued drinking will become more severe until I accepted that my drinking is not normal. After that episode I couldn’t hide anymore."

"That’s my girl. Matt put his arm around her and they sat still enjoying the simple pleasure of being together.

+ + +

The drying out was almost complete. Matt had one more item on his agenda. In true Marine mode he tackled it head on. "Come sit with me Mac."

"Sure what’s up?"

"We’ll be leaving soon." He informed her.

"Already? We’re done?" She was shocked.

"It’s been almost two months and you’ll never be done." He corrected.

"I know." She sighed.

"What are your plans Mac?" He asked.

The question took her by surprise. "Plans?"

"Yes." He grinned. "Now that your be all and end all is no longer in a bottle you will be nineteen soon what are you going to do with the rest of your life?"

"Weeel." She paused.

"Well?" He prompted.

"I once had a dream to join the Marine Corps. Harm in the NAVY me in the Marines."

"Harm." He echoed. "You called on him more than God as you dried out. What gives?"

"Friends." She replied promptly. "I hope..."

"Nothing more?" He was suspicious.

"I’m married Uncle Matt!!"

He snorted and let it slide. "The Marines is a good idea. I’m in and I love it. You should pull that idea out of the cobwebs and seriously consider it. Got the grades?"

"Barely." She confessed.

"SARAH!"

"What can I say Uncle Matt. You of all people should know what my ambitions were!!! Two months ago I was ready to prostitute myself for a drink, now I’m here with you talking about a life in the military!"

"You are quite right." He apologized. "I’m a man of action, but if you want I can get you into a program."

"Let me think about it." She asked.

"You do that."

==========================================

Part Thirty-Four by Melissa (MelMarie612@aol.com ) Pat actually

==========================================

Sarah Catherine Mackenzie had fled. Clean and sober, she fled her former life. Not bothering to even tell Chris where she was going, she marched into Marine Recruiting one fine day and applied for Officer Candidate School. For the two months it took them to make their decision she supported herself waiting tables and working on remaining dry.

She stayed in touch with Harm with casual letters and the occasional phone call but kept totally secret--pleading with Uncle Matt to do the same--what she was doing, and where she was she never revealed.

OCS was long and grueling. Her D.I. singled her out for attention, not because he hated her, but because he saw the potential in her to become a fine officer. He took her weaknesses and laid waste to them. Many nights she sobbed softly into her pillow, wanting a drink, wanting Eddie, wanting... wanting Harm. She had never stopped loving him, and never would.

Thirteen weeks later--graduation. Uncle Matt stood proudly in the audience while the bars of 2nd Lieutenant were placed upon his niece. A past life was done, and a new one begun.


==========================================

Part Thirty-Five by Pat (SSbpMN@aol.com )

==========================================

From Parris Island to Bosnia with stops in between, Mac's Marine career forged ahead. She was selected for OCS, and along the way completed a college degree. Okinawa came, and with it Col. John Farrow and her growing desire to go to law school. With that behind her, she became a Naval Investigator and finally was recruited by Clayton Webb to JAG.

And in the midst of all that, came Harm's crash and his own pursuit of a law degree and a JAG assignment. They stayed in touch afterward and saw each other occasionally. Her marriage to Christopher Ragle was not mentioned again, and Harm assumed she had divorced the jerk long ago.

Then came one unusually warm day in January. A newly appointed Lieutenant Commander was in the White House Rose Garden to receive a commendation from the Commander in Chief. Afterwards as he walked back to the car with Admiral Chegwidden, a Marine in full class A uniform approached them, stopping to salute the Admiral.

"Major Mackenzie," he smiled, making the appropriate introductions. Harm could do nothing but stare in amazement.

"Have you two met?" AJ frowned.

"Yes. . .no. . .sir." they both spoke at once.

"I’m sorry Major of course I don’t know you." He knew he was in trouble Mac had disavowed him. He felt like an agent in the TV Show Mission Impossible. He gave a weak smile even as the Admiral spoke.

AJ gave them what would be the first in a long line of perplexed looks as they shook hands. "Just don't get too close. You're going to work together."

THE END

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Authors’ End Notes: For further information on Alcoholism you can visit:
http://www.webhealthcentre.com/general/da_phase.asp
http://www.webtree.ca/sjas1/chemdep/developmentalphasesofrecovery.htm

Info on Red Rock, Arizona available at:
http://www.heartsongproductions.com/sedona.html